Very Bad Boys
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: Sometimes it gets to the point where you have to stand up for yourself and take charge of your life. Even at the cost of everything else. Time Turner abuse. Crack. Banter. OCs. Plotting. Teenage Dark Lords. Who knew being bad felt so good? Disclaimer: This is a FANFICTION.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the Wizarding World and everyone it. Well, almost. With help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with respect.

**Rating:** M. _For a reason folks. You've been warned. Don't be surprised later on._

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy. OC. Dumbledore.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and emotional abuse. Pureblood politics. Possessed diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_Sometimes I don't want to get better_

_Sometimes I can't be put back together,_

_Sometimes I find it hard to believe, there's someone else who could be,_

_Just as messed up as me_

* * *

A lissome boy with inky hair stooped over a bubbling cauldron in an abandoned classroom. Pale yellow light reflected on his face, showing lips pulled between white teeth absently. Emerald orbs rimmed with thick dark lashes shined with curiosity and determination. His attention flickered between the heating liquid and a set of notes on the desk beside him. From the outside looking in one might see an avid potions researcher seeking a place to work without disturbance. One might see a student working diligently to better their-self at a subject in which they perform less than adequately. One might see a prankster readying a potion of their own invention to reek havoc on these hallowed halls. What one might not see, after casually glancing in, is that something life altering was progress.

_No turning back now._

Harry Potter was going to change the world. Right now. In this moment. And then they would see. Dumbledore with his ever twinkling eyes and subtle manipulations. Hermione, whom he hoped choked on her self-serving ideals. Ron who teased him for his looks and his fame and his moniker (the-boy-who-live and more recently Slytherin's heir). Malfoy who noticed all of it and found it funny. Maybe, if their places were changed, he'd find it funny too. The blonde had warned him after all.

He was tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him. Speaking down to him in soft condescending tones, soothing his worries with pats on the head and promises of more information when he was ready. Of the small, humoring smiles when he requested passes to the restricted section or asked questions above his year. Apparently he was only the Savior of the Wizarding World when it suited them and at all other times he was a naive child who oughtn't know anything about the reality of the situation. Well, no more. No more being underestimated. No more being ignored. Being used.

Harry spooned a small amount of potion into a vial and grinned wickedly. If he succeeded, they'd acknowledge him then. They'd see him then. He would be famous for his own merits and no one would dare mock him. Not for his looks or his short stature or his parentage. They would see him now. The real Harry. He turned and stepped into a circle drawn on the stone floor with ashes and salt. Harry took a calming breath, brought the vial to his lips and tipped it just enough to taste. A series of thundering, rolling booms startled him. It took a great deal of self-control not to jump out of the circle as the world around him shimmered, blurred and swirled around him. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Harry immediately toppled over. Not quite the entrance he'd imagined.

"You're here..." a low voice whispered.

Rubbing the back of his head, face flushed with embarrassment, Harry sat up. To his left, across a large, wet hall stood the key to his success. The Yin to his Yang. The tracle to his tart. Insert other ridiculous metaphors here.

His equal.

"Riddle." He greeted, saluting cheerily. Harry stood and wiped the grime off his dark tunic and slacks. A grimace flickered across his face. Yuck.

"You're here." Riddle, eyes glimmering, calculating, observing, said again.

"Apparently."

"In my diary."

"Yes."

The older boy took a single step forward and paused. "With me." Tom Riddle shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled across the chamber. Harry began backing up, a tiny measure of alarm prodding at him in the back of his mind. Tom stopped a breath away, his left hand brushing the fringe from his forehead. Long fingers skittered across his face. Blue eyes met green and Harry felt his breath hitch, a shudder of apprehension flowing through him. He believed it was warranted, sixteen or not this was still Voldemort. "Harry?"

"Yes. It's me Tom."

Riddle brushed fingers through Harry's hair and down his neck feeling his pulse point and back to his face. "You managed to retrieve me from the girl. She stole me from his office you know. Dumbledore's. I don't remember how I got there Harry. Are you the reason why? "

"Yes. You've been asleep for a while now. I'm in my fourth year."

The hand cupped his cheek, slid along his jaw and allowed a pale finger to trace his lips. "Why are you here Harry?"

Harry swallowed and ordered himself to breathe. "They..." he trailed off searching for the proper words, "they think they know me. And using the information they have supplied, they dare to choose my future for me. They dare to judge my worth, my potential. The treat me like a shiny weapon one day and a naive child the next." He paused.

Riddle waited patiently, a peculiar, possessive gleam forming in his eyes.

"But they don't know me. None of them. They don't even try." as if in answer to his raging and confusing emotions, the pools of water rippled, the lights flickered and cracks spidered along the stones. Resentment and jealousy and bitterness and a mess of other emotions he'd never allowed himself to acknowledge radiated off him in a stormy aura. Years of frustration released from their chains of denial and self-loathing. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands hard, blood trickling from them. "I am not some... some golden child with rose-coloured glasses and hopeful dreams. I've seen the world. The real world. I lived in it. This..." He gestured around them as well as he could with Riddle standing so close, "this is a fantasy. All their talk of equality and understanding and tolerance. They only tolerate people like them. And...and if you're different...if you're truly special...they mock you. They fear you. They try to manipulate you..." He closed his eyes, took a breath, opened them and raised his vial with the remaining potion in it. "Freedom." Harry handed it over.

Riddle took it with his right hand and stared. **"You would release me?"**

"I've seen reality. I'm doing my best to change it to suit my needs. I need a new ending, the previous one was less than satisfactory. And, in any way, I've seen enough to know what I'm doing." Harry answered in English.

"What could you have seen? You're only a child."

He smiled bitterly. "Am I?"

Sharp eyes focused on him. "Harry, I have to tell you that this is most unwise. They aren't going to forgive you for this."

Said boy tilted his head, eyes hardening. "So what? Why should we have to stand in the corner, suffering in silence while everyone else walks around with painted smiles on their faces, wearing mass-produced rose-coloured glasses like everything is right in the world? Like everything is okay? Fuck that. Misery is a selfish bitch. They should join the party."

Tom's lips twitched, pulling upward. He ran his free hand through Harry's inky locks and pulled him into a strange embrace. A hug, Harry supposed. Though he hadn't had enough in his life to really be certain. Tom whispered quietly, **"I will show you the darkness they fear so and then I shall use it to free you from your cage of synthetic light..." **He was pushed back gently, just enough to come face to face with Riddle. **"Do you remember and accept I am? Who I will become?"** Tom asked. He brought up the vial and poured the rest of the potion into his mouth.

Harry stared back, a wicked smile playing on his lips.** "Yes."**

His back hit the wall and cold lips crashed on to his. Green eyes widened. Fingers pulled his hair in a vice like grip and a tongue coated with the rest of the potion flicked into his mouth. The world blurred around them, it spun and reformed into a shadowed room with a cauldron in one corner and two dark-haired orphaned boys standing together, in a newly made fragile, alliance within a circle painted in salt and ashes.

Harry's blood soaking in without either of them noticing.


	2. Chapter 2

**SUMMARY:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the Wizarding World and everyone it. Well, almost. With help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with respect.

**Rating: M.** For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy. OC. Dumbledore.

**Warnings:** Violence. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and emotional abuse. Pureblood politics. Teenage Dark Lords.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_The sound of your voice painted on my memories, e__ven when you're not with me I'm with you_

_I hit you and you hit me back w__e fall to the floor, the rest of the day stands still_

_With you _

_Even when I close my eyes_

_With you_

* * *

It was easy to put the change in his character and habits to preparation for the tournament. Some said he felt guilty about cheating or he was frightened and studying like mad. That he was sulking for being ignored by the majority of his house and indeed the school. Which, according to several pissed off Hufflepuffs, the cheating bastard deserved. No one noticed how far the subtle shifts went. No one noticed the hours he spent, supposedly alone. No one thought anything of him distancing himself from his friends. The teachers remarked in passing that he was doing much better in classes, that he was often seen in the library or that he was more reserved. Growing, they would say.

A day would come when the world would look back on these moments, the calm before the storm, and wonder how they ever managed not to see it coming. Because while they were off gossiping and insulting and belittling and skipping on their merry way, Harry Potter was planning plans and dreaming dreams.

And he was far from sulking.

"Again!"

Harry shifted to the left and missed a flash of blue, then another. A third made him drop the floor and roll to avoid a fourth. The ground he vacated seconds before darkened nearly black by a fire spell of some sort. He reflected this would be easier if he knew what was being cast at hi, then he could try to fight back. As it was Tom, being the sadistic jerk he was, insisted on casting silently. Harry's healing abilities had increased dramatically in the last two weeks. It wasn't as if he could explain away fractures and dramatic blood loss. Students got into fights but not like this and certainly not every night. It also wouldn't be the best idea to tell them he was practicing with a sixteen year old from fifty years in the past.

"Damn." Harry hiss and clutched his arm only to be hit in his shoulder.

He turned and slid behind what was left of a desk and imagined all the curses he was learning just so he could use them on Tom. Not that he didn't enjoy the bastard's company. But damn it to Merlin that stinging hex was vile. And anyway, making Tom hurt was fun.

"If you didn't want to be hit you oughtn't to have day dreamed. I should have killed you. You would have deserved it. Now get out here and try again."

Harry grit his teeth and flung himself from his hiding place.

Tom Riddle stood on the other end of the room, only the slightest sheen of sweat, dressed in all black long sleeved tunic and trousers. He stood with his his feet a foot apart, eyes flicking from his opponent to his surroundings. Harry stood with one foot in front of the other, weight balance, knees a bit bent, his wand poised to block attacks rather than fire him. One a deadly predator, one an adapting nomad. Tom was all about domination and mental manipulations. If he couldn't kill you straight out he had you kill yourself by wearing down your concentration with intimidation and taunting. Instead of keeping you're head in the game you let your emotions rule your responses and he reaped the benefits accordingly.

Harry on the other hand was a miss-mash of defensive and evasive maneuvers. His spells were powerful when he managed to get an offensive one out, his shield spell and reflective spells were durable, he was quick on his feet and reacted on instinct. His entire strategy was survival. He avoided getting hit and used his endurance and speed to wear down his opponent. The more tired they were the sloppier their spell-work, the more he could risk firing an offensive spell of his own and the more likely he would best you. The two fighting styles together made for long, violent matches.

Both Harry and Tom were strong willed, powerful, stubborn and fueled by a thirst. A thirst to prove themselves. A yearning for strength and power to protect themselves. They were special and they knew it and soon the world would acknowledge it, on it's knees. In chains. At their feet. Because they had an understanding that only the one could provide the other. The bullying. The feeling of being at another's mercy. The manipulations of others. The gossip and insults and constant fight to get any recognition. The knowledge of being superior and the fury at being ignored or used or disrespected. They didn't seek justice, they sought vengeance. Any why shouldn't they?

Contrary to Dumbledore's ramblings of morality, revenge was only human.

"Again!"

He threw himself under a desk, ducking out the other side and leaping over and over-turned chair, firing off a shield spell. He tumbled into the side of a bookcase, cursing at the pain in his shoulder. Tom looked far too smug for his liking. But Harry hadn't revealed all his secrets. _"Cogita Multiplicamini."_ He whispered.

Tom paused as replicas of himself surrounded him with their wands twirling and faces smirking. He cast a quick _Finate Incantatum_ and raised a brow when they didn't disappear. _"Incarcerus! Inpedimenta! Bombarda! Rictusempra!"_ He jerked to the right and swore when his reflections shot off spells of their own. On the defensive for the first time this session he ducked and shot back another string of curses. Again and again, only for the same curses to be shot back , by himself. It mused it was like a very strange and deadly therapy session to cure self loathing. He turned his head at movement in the corner of his eye only to be hit with a spell. Tom scowled at Harry from the floor and waved his wand to cancel the spell.

Harry cocked his head, utterly calm and flicked his wand. _"Renati Daemonium."_ Tom's eyes widened.

Harry watched the older boy lay on the ground, convulsing, his worst memories played in the front of his mind like a never ending picture show, only the remembered pain wasn't just remembered. It was real.

Tom felt it all like it was happening to him again. Fear. He was a child again, locked out of the orphanage. It was raining and freezing and no matter how hard he knopcked at the windows the older kids would only laugh and ignore him. His feet slip on ice and fell into the snow, soaking in the rain. Alone.

Rage. Children mocking him. Pushing him around. A snake's body in the garden, children's laughter. Fear. Bitterness. Rage. Loneliness. Fear. Worthlessness. Rage. Helplessness. His body shuddered violently and the curse lifted. He tried to sit up.

_"Crucio!"_

He dodged, muscles screaming, memories playing before his eyes slowly fading. Emotions raw. _"Crucio!"_ Harry dropped, blood fell from his lips as his teeth dug into them trying to with hold screams. Thirty seconds later he gave that up. Five minutes later the spell released. Tom crossed the floor quickly, bleeding and bruised from his own injuries. He straddled Harry and ran his long fingers across his face.

Harry shook his head and regained enough clarity to feel lips searing against his face over his wounds. Cuts, sprains and gashes scraped on the floor, the burns and glass and splinters of wood completely forgotten around them. Tom kissed down his neck then claimed his mouth. He twined his fingers in inky hair and pulled Harry's head back to attack his throat. He bit and Harry gasped. Hard and mean and dominating. Feral groans and a fierce wild need to control and claim the other. It wasn't affection.

It was desperation. Obsession. Addiction.

_Possesion._

Finally Tom pulled away, both panting, cheeks flushed and sweating from fighting. From torturing the other. From the overwhelming feeling of power each other's magical pressure induced. He grinned down at Harry, eyes shining with approval, anger and dark possessiveness. Minds filled with harsher curses, more violent hexes and a longing to hear the other scream, the other hurt and be hurt. Being at each other's mercy, even for the sort time it was, seeing that cruel, calculating, pleased look on Harry's face while he lay at his feet had him pumped up with adrenaline. "Again." Tom growled.

Harry pulled his knees to his chest and kicked Tom off. _"Incendio."_

_"Prego. Immobilus!"_

_"Vind-lashio."_ Tiny cuts and slices swept up Toms body, blood staining his black clothes darker, soaking them against his skin. Sticking to them and pulling away more skin each time he moved, his sweat leaking salt into them, stinging. He flicked his wand and Harry was flung into the air, spun and hit the wall with a crack.

Three hours later, with ten minutes to spare until curfew, Harry entered his common room. Fresh clothes, bruises faded, cuts healed, bones repaired. He made no attempts to engage in conversation and his house mates ignored him for the most part. Though he wouldn't have noticed if they did may him attention. Unless it hindered his plans, it didn't matter. This childish need to know what others were up to and who was speaking with whom or who fought with whom...it did nothing for him. His mind spun with calculations and strategies and plans. While others were struggling in class he was getting most spells by his third try and spending the remaining call periods assessing his class mates. Some of them had assessed him in return. Which lead to a shaky ceasefire between himself and the Slytherins. For the most part, some of them mocked him for his placement in the Tournament but the rest lost the desire when it became clear he didn't care and didn't notice. While the rest of the school carried on as usual, the Slytherins were watching him. They watched him study. They watched him research. They watched him improve in classes. They watched him dodge spells in the halls when disgruntled classmates tried to hex him. They watched him cut them down with his words. They watched the dull indifference he regarded the world with shine in his killing curse eyes. They watched and they calculated and they wondered.

Because even though, in the past, there had been public confrontations between members so their house and Potter and his friends. Even though he, until now, been the poster child Of Gryffindor and the light. Slytherins were known as the cunning and ambitious for a reason. Recognizing power was like breathing. Recognizing changes in social structure was like drinking water. Things they had always known to do. If Harry Potter was separating himself from his house willingly, they wanted to know why. He should have tried to get back in his friend's good graces weeks ago. He should have been taking his anger out on Malfoy. He should have dulled eyes, and sullen disposition and lack of motivation in class. There ought to have been signs of his displeasure. What they saw, what no one else seemed to notice, was the light shining in his eyes. The straight back and head held high. The narrowed eyes and tightened jaw and cold, hard avoidance of everyone. They could almost feel his power growing. They didn't need to know how. They knew the signs of exhaustive training, of confidence in one's abilities, the sure steps of one who has chosen their path. The question wasn't how he was doing it.

The question was why.


	3. Chapter 3

**SUMMERY**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the Wizarding World and everyone it. Well, almost. With help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with respect.

**Rating: M.** For a reason folks. You've been warned. Don't be surprised later on.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy. (HP/TMR pairing)

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and emotional abuse. Pureblood politics. Possessed diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN:** Third chap. Sorry, no Beta. Don't forget to let me know if you like what I do.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_...demons lay in waiting, tempting me away_

_oh how i adore you_

_oh how i thirst for you_

_oh how i need you_

_The way you make me feel, I've never felt so real_

* * *

Silver eyes followed Potter, more closely than usual. Which was saying something. There had been a time Draco Malfoy would have killed to get his attention. He went as far in that direction as he dared, it worked. Until recently. Until this year. And it wasn't him specifically that was being shunned, it was the entire school. He had hoped to bring Potter attentions on himself again when he concocted those silly badges. Not very Slytherin but perfect bait for a Gryffindor. At least, it should have been. Potter only raised an eyebrow, something that could be amusement flickering in his eyes before he continued on his way. Everyone else either dismissed it or didn't notice but Draco did. It said a lot of things if you knew what to look for. The first being that Potter wasn't interested in even keeping up the appearances of a rivalry with him. That Potter didn't find it worth his concern, which meant he thought he had more important things to worry about. That he allowed Draco to see his amusement said something else as well. So that brought him here, leaning against a wall on the seventh floor, arms crossed. Waiting.

No one knew Harry Potter like he did. He knew what pleased him, what made him angry, what annoyed him. He knew what food he didn't like. What his favorite shirt was. His utter dislike for being told what to do. His dissatisfaction. His inability to be happy. Draco knew and he watched and he kept it in mind. You never knew when such things came in handy. So when the slightest changed occurred in Potter, Draco noticed instantly. He observed and calculated and figured out the why's and the how's. That was the only way to act accordingly, wasn't it? You can't taunt someone if you don't know what makes their blood boil. Who they were in favor with, who they disliked, how they felt. You had to pay attention. This was how political battles were won in the background. How wars ended before they started. How rebellions were squashed. You had to pay attention.

At precisely half an hour to curfew a door materialized on the opposite wall and Potter stepped out. He zeroed in on Draco right away, which had been expected. Draco raised his hands, empty, and step away from the wall and into the light of the dimly lit hallway. They stared at one another for a moment. Neither saying anything. It wasn't too long ago when they would have hexed each other if a chance like this came. Now they both studied the other, pondering their next move.

"I want to know what's going on."

The Gryffindor opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and tilted his head. Slowly Potter paced around him. Which, yes, was unnerving. It was cat-like and predatory. Not something he'd ever seen in the boy before.

Flickers of something rippling out every so often. One loop around him. Two. It build up. Sweat gleamed on his pale skin and Draco's breathing became labored. He knew this feeling. It was dark magic. Powerful magic. Potter stopped beside him, took hold of his hand and pulled him to the door and to the room inside. Draco couldn't find it in himself to even be suspicious of his motives.

Inside a very large dueling arena was set up. With Potter's increase in reflexes, which were already fabulous from playing Seeker, and his growing strength in class, some sort oftraining room was expected. Potter stepped behind him, left arm sliding around Draco's chest to hold him closer, right hand following his right arm down until it clasped around his wrist. He raised Draco's right arm and pointed it toward the dummies across the hall.

"Can you feel it Draco?" The shorter boy murmured against his ear.

Potter rested his chin on Draco's shoulder and whispered a spell. Electricity swirled down his arm and out his hand. It spiraled, igniting the air in sparks until it hit the wall and exploded. Draco brought in a shaky breath. That feeling was amazing. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He was light headed, giddy, a feral smile lighting his face.

"Again." He ordered, haughtily.

Potter snickered and whispered another spell. And another. And another.

"Again."

The build up of magic left Draco breathless. It was intoxicating.

"How are you doing this?" He managed to ask.

Potter clucked his teeth, left hand sliding up Draco's throat forcing his head back.

"You feel it. You want it. I can tell."

Draco tried to breath in gulping breaths.

"The question, the real question, is what you are willing to do to have your own piece of it. Think Draco, there doesn't have to be a light side and dark side in this world. There are those with power and those without it. You aren't weak Draco. You are clever. You were raised to know the politics of this world, the social aspects of it, the subtle manipulations, the connections, the feuds. You know it all. Why let all that precious knowledge go to waste, waiting around for your father to die so you can use it? Yo could use it now. With us."

"Us?"

"I decided neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort quite had what suited my needs, so I formed another side. You could be a part of it Draco. We could use your talents."

Power rolled and crashed in Draco's veins, his bones rattling with the echoes, his spine tingling, electricity raking down his back, heart shivering and pulsing with it. There's no way he could give this up. This feeling. The thought of never tasting it again was unbearable.

Draco Malfoy had done his best to be what the world required of him. What his father required of him. What his house required of him. But he had been living his life for everyone else and if continued on this path, chosen for him, he would serve his father's master one day. He couldn't stand the thought of bowing at another person's feet, no matter how powerful. He may be an arrogant jerk, but he was arrogant jerk with an extensive knowledge of poisons, dark magic, forbidden magic, a huge library of the stuff at his disposal in the family manor, large familial connections and an obsessive, ambitious streak.

He wanted to be the best. Without argument. Not for his last name, not for his status or his wealth or his position in his house. He wanted to be, undeniably, the best. The fact Potter could read his soul so thoroughly was frightening...and fascinating. He was vaguely aware Of the warmth leaving his back and Potter reappearing in front of him, holding out his hand.

"Do you want to fight to be a part of the ruling class in a world you don't even like? Or do you want to tear the world down and rebuild it to your liking?"

Another boy stepped out of the darkness in the corners of the room. He must have been watching all the while. As he watched the boy walk to stand beside Potter he noted something. They looked very similar, though one was a taller, fairer skin version with cool blue eyes and hair parted to the left. The other, messy inky hair, killing curse green eyes, shirt partially unbuttoned showing tanned skin. The other, the one he didn't know, dressed from head to toe in black, skin covered. Opposites, but sides of the same coin.

He wanted... no he needed to know who this other boy was. He needed to know what brought about this change in Potter. He needed to know where they were going with this. He needed to be a part of it, to feel that power, to control it, to bend it to his will. In that moment he would do anything Potter asked of him if it meant he could get a piece of this for himself. Anything.

He raised his chin arrogantly.

"I'm in."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summery:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating:** M. For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings**: Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN:** I've got another chap up for you. I apologize for the wait. In my absence I've written out the further chapters for both_ Very Bad Boys_ and _Child of Strength_ so hopefully you will consider this a peace offering? Got Questions? Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them. If it's a particularly _good_ question I might even give you a super secret tidbit of information.

* * *

_Toying somewhere between love and abuse_

_Calling to join them the wretched and joyful_

_Shaking the wings of their terrible youths_

_Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion_

_No more alone_

* * *

To his credit the Malfoy heir took meeting the sixteen-year-old embodiment of a piece of The Dark Lord's soul rather well. His Slytherin instincts told him it didn't matter how that came about and unless one of them brought it up he wouldn't ask. Tom approved of his attitude. He would. To Harry's delight this was one of the last times Tom and Draco got along. For whatever reason every topic they brought up which both of them hand some ability in would devolve into a testosterone fueled battle of cave-man-like proportions. After which they'd look at Harry as if asking which had won the fight. Harry would choose whomever had the opinion he preferred. They had yet to realize this and so the winner would be as smug as humanly possible to the loser until the next contest between them.

Apart from this awesome source of entertainment Draco ended up being a fantastic choice on Harry's part. The blonde tackled any task given to him with relish. Within an hour of his arrival to the RoR that first night he'd drawn up a large chart of wizarding hierarchy on a white board the room provided. The Slytherin loved it and Harry had yet to tell him of its muggle origins. That was probably for the best.

And so while Tom plotted and researched during the day, Draco and Harry analyzed their fellow students. They passed at the tops of their classes. And they began dueling in the corridors to everyone's relief. They were in fact using it to practice some of what they were learning with Tom but doing it like this in the open gave them a lovely adrenaline rush. They came up with outrageous things to be offended by and called each other ridiculous insults with dramatic hand gestures. It was all very fun and Harry found himself wishing he'd become friends with the blonde sooner. Though had gotten along better the end of last year he had really missed out on the first two years of his school experience. He was a wealth of information and far more funny than he ever would have guessed. In one week the Malfoy heir had acquired him a PR Rep, an account manager, a better wardrobe and correspondence courses from Durmstrang for Dueling and Manipulative Arts, or Advanced Mind Magics as it was called in 'The History of Forgotten Magicks'. Harry had tackled the taller boy with a hug. There were a lot of testosterone fights that day.

Toms had them working on their memory, problem solving and concentration with magical puzzles and problems he set up during the day for them to work out. Some of them they had to work together and some of the problems were individual. All three of them acquired journals they used during nightly meditations before bed. They were to right down any and all thoughts that occurred while attempting to keep their minds focus on a single visualized object and nothing else, allowing nothing to interfere. Their progress was measured by the amount of stray thoughts recorded on a given night. Harry visualized chasing a snitch, Draco stacking a card castle and Tom visualized balancing on the top of a mountain.

Harry tried not to analyze the reasons behind this too much.

The day before the first task things changed again. At breakfast Harry sat at the small round table set up in the hall for socializing, it was meant encourage foreign relations he thought. No one used it often so Harry began claiming it for his own. He was disliked by most of the school so no one minded. This morning he pulled out his research for the task, he still didnt know what he was preparing for!, when the entire hall heard an argument at the Slytherin table. This was a history-book sort of occurrence as the Slytherins never argued in public. From what he could see Draco had set up some research of his own and one of the older years had spilled a drink on his book. Harry blanched. The blond was very serious about books. No one could hear what was being said after the first few words. Someone must have put up a silencing barrier.

Abruptly it was over. Draco packed up his things, stepped onto the bench, and proceeded to walk over the table and down the other bench and the up the bench and across the table of the Griffindor table. Everyone stared. The blond stopped when he reached Harry's little table. He bowed formally.

"Would it be permissible to study with you here?"

Harry nodded numbly, distracted by the Bulgarians copying the Malfoy heir one-by-one led by their champion Victor Krum, followed quickly by Fleur Delacour and the Beaubatons girls and Cedric Diggory with three Hufflepuff friends. He didn't know how to react to this sudden display of solidarity. It must have shown because Draco winked at him then scooted closer.

"So... how about them dragons?" He drawled.

The other champions glanced at each other, pulled up their book bags and brought out their own research for the first task and began swapping theories. The merits of illusions versus trickery versus offensive spells were discussed with vigor, swapping experiences and recommending reading. Cedric revealed he knew of several useful books in the restricted section and Fleur asked about having a planning session later that night. Some sort of silence barrier had been set up around the table and no other students were permitted to sit with them. It was a very clear sign of support to the rest of the school and the teachers.

They finished their meals and spent the day in the back of the library with silencing spells up. Once again no other students were allowed within the group, though Hermione attempted to speak with Harry several times. He met several students from Durmstrang he found he liked and could imagine Tom encouraging him to 'network'. So he did. He learned names, backgrounds, school experiences, home-life and preferences toward magic. Everyone was surprisingly eager to speak with him about what ever topic he chose. Draco informed him it was because they were all very worried about from his behavior. The fact he was the youngest of champions and small even amongst those of his own age only made it worse. They felt bad for him and now that he seemed to be opening up to them they wanted him to know he could talk to them. Harry would, of course, use this to his advantage. Unfortunately at the end of the night end still wasn't sure what method he would use and he only had the rest of the night to practice whatever it was. Even for his famous luck this was cutting it damn close. Turns out he was worried for nothing.

Draco nudged Harry with his elbow and passed over a small book on the similarities between large reptiles, namely large serpents, such as Basilisks and... dragons. Dragons were serpents. He could speak to serpents.

Harry could have kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summery:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M.** For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN:** _Two chaps in a week? Yes this blatant bribery to leave my porch and take the barrels of hot oil and sharped harpoons (how terrifying is that?) with you and leave me in peace please. You're frightening the serpents! __I'm sorry I left ya'll hanging I'll try not to have such a long absence in the future. On a side note someone asked me if I name my chapters when I'm writing them to help me remember what goes in that particular chapter and I do actually. _

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them. If it's a particularly good question I might even give you a super secret tidbit of information.

* * *

_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

* * *

The day of the first task was a day of many unlikely firsts. It dawned obscenely bright and clear which was cautiously and perhaps foolishly taken as a good omen by the soon-to-be audience of students and foreign officials. The first first in what was to become an annoying amount of numbered firsts was the surprise arrival of yet another school to observe the proceedings. Students chittered and chattered in a polite motion of curiosity that swelled into a high-wind experience of excitement and shock. _The Viridian Jr Knights Academy of Alchemical Sciences and the High Magick_s was present and for those not in the know, which was the entire muggleborn population, this was a very big deal. The Viridian was not only a prestigious institution of learning but also a place, an archiplegeo of islands. The Muggles once called it Avalon, the home to the Lady of the Lake and final resting place of Arthur. Purebloods of all nationalities were sending frantic last minute messages to their heads of family that had not chosen to attend. Several were seen gussying up on their way to the stands. The rumours and competitiveness was at an all time high."

"Can you believe it? Can you imagine what it's like?"

"You know I went to the Trials two summers ago."

"I heard Blaise Zabini in Slytherin has a cousin who goes there."

"Do you think they're here to issue invitations?"

"Oh I hope I get one! The boy with the delegates is gorgeous I bet they all look like that."

From Draco's seat he could view the judges box. The blonde aristocrat ignored the school headmasters in favor of two new faces to the far left. A man and two women who might be twins whispered amongst themselves for a moment then slowly began speaking with the other judges in the box. They were very young looking he noted, he would have thought they were students if they weren't seated in the judges box. Of course where it concerns The Viridian, or magical beings in general really, you couldn't judge one's ages on their looks.

His own father was thirty seven and still looked his late twenties, as he had since he was sixteen as he _smugly_ told anyone who would listen.

The young man who probably wasn't a young man had golden hair and pale golden skin, even seated he was obviously tall. Though he couldn't make out his eyes from here the look on his face was one of constant observation and he rarely took his gaze of his surroundings even as conversed with females next to him. His posture was very straight and proper. The two beside him looked nothing like him. They were both petite, rather like Harry, with odd skin the colour of pale sand and dark hair, but after that their similarities ended. One of them kept her hair long and currently had it pulled back into two high ponytails on the crown of her head. She wore a fitted men's suit and a medical mask covered the lower half of her face. Her eyes though, even from this far away he could see them. A vibrant violet. Her twin kept her dark hair straight, glossy and chin length. While she wore no mask her eyes were covered with darkened glasses and a guard he noticed only now stood behind her holding up a parasol to keep the sun off her. Dressing against gender norms appeared to be a family tradition, though rather than a suit she wore loose slacks, a long tunic and boots. All three of them were dressed utterly in black.

"Draco what happened to your face? Get caught snogging someone's girl?"

The blonde paused to smirk at Theodore Nott who was staring at his jaw appreciatively. He rubbed a pale hand over it and smirked.

"Something like that."

He endured the brown haired boy's teasing for a bit then returned to his task. The judges.

His silver eyes watched their interactions and those of the people beside them carefully. He'd been charged with providing a memory for a pensive to Tom afterwards and every detail mattered. The French headmistress appeared torn between amusement and irritation at their presence while Kakaroff and Bagman were obviously very pleased. It was Dumbledore's reaction he found most interesting. He sat directly next to the woman with the parasol and they did nothing but argue as far as he could tell. Oh they had polite smiles on their faces but he was a Malfoy and he knew sugar covered poison when he saw it and these two were intent on infecting the other with well spoken venom. They could only be discussing one thing. Politics.

Low, feral laughter rang out, causing shiver's down the backs of many. The woman in the parasol was amused. Draco, trying to ease his own nerves from the sound, wondered how Dumbledore could willingly be so close to and insult someone who could make a sound like that. That wasn't human. Draco eyed her carefully, this would bear looking into. He knew a the important things about the Viridian of course, he was a high level pureblood after all, but he wasn't sure who she... Then it clicked. Serephina Tabbris. Leader of one of the Viridian political factions and current Battle Magicks professor at The Viridian. He may have began salivating. The things she knew! The questions he could ask!

Of course she was here. She was Queen of the Dragonkind. The Morgan.

He noted black uniformed students beyond the three newcomers when a loud voice encouraged the audience to take their seats and began welcoming them to the first task of the tournament. Draco watched each champions turn with intense focus, any and all weakness would be remembered and brought up later in one of his charts. Though they may be on friendly terms, this was a competition and it was agreed amongst the trio that if Harry was going to be forced to participate he'd bloody well win while he was at it.

Tom insisted it was an excellent excuse to show off his more secretive talents. Draco refused to associated with anyone less the best and with his recent public declaration of support for Harry he intended to make sure Harry's superiority was obvious and the damn midget better not think of doing less than perfect. The small Griffindor had only smiled at him fondly when the blonde informed him of this.

"I shall have to put on a good show then, if it will please you so much." The look on Tom's face face was more than worth the bruises.

He blinked. Only one more champion to go. The Slytherin leaned forward eagerly, or as eager as a Malfoy was allowed to look in public. Time for the main event. Harry better have one Hell of a show planned, you couldn't wish for a better audience.

_"Harry Potter!"_

* * *

**Yet Another AN: **I know, I'm totally an evil bastard for stopping right there.

Some of you who are reading both VBB and the Alchema Series have noticed something. Well done you!

**-Pseu**


	6. Chapter 6

**Summery: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN: **I'm on a role!

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them. If it's _a particularly good _question I might even give you a _super secret _tidbit of information.

* * *

_I'm not afraid to cry from this cocaine sickness_

_I'm not afraid to die, let the good book witness  
_

_I ask and give none, nope, no forgiveness  
_

_The day of the dead and you're on our hit list  
_

_So come all you misfits  
_

_Bitch, you're on our hit list_

* * *

Harry sat on the floor of the tent, legs crossed and eyes closed. He concentrated on breathing, pushing all of his thoughts into Snake Language. It occurred to him, vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind in the shadowy places where you stuff things you'd rather not think about, that if he hadn't chosen to align himself with Tom and Draco he could be walking to his death in a few moments. How lonely would have been with no one to talk to? How much anger would he have repressed in his chest each morning? He could imagine it if he tried hard enough.

When he first entered the wizarding world it was like an answer to a prayer. He was somewhere he belonged, he was wanted and respected. And it was all a lie. This was a world full of pretenders and they only pointed their painted smiles at him if he played along. But Harry had never been good at pretending to be something he wasn't.

In his first year Voldemort had offered him a place if he was willing to be a servant. He wasn't. Dumbledore offered him a place if he was willing to be a puppet. He wasn't. At least Voldemort noticed this straight off and didn't try again. It wasn't until he experiences down in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year that it truly occurred to Harry that he could do this. He could get people to listen to him. He could even have them fear him. And Tom Riddle was just like him, even if he did eventually become Voldemort. He was right. They were quite alike. And for the entire summer and all of third year he couldn't stop thinking about it.

When Dumbledore refused to let him stay at the castle for the summer break prior to fourth year he grinned and pretended to let it go. When Dumbledore refused to respond to the letters Harry sent him after the accident at the Quidditch Cup, Harry smiled and pretended to let it go. When Dumbledore refused to get him out of the tournament Harry said nothing and pretended to let it go. When Dumbledore refused to provide him with training for the tournament Harry left his office in shambles.

If the world was so wiling to turn it's back on him it was only fair he return the favor. Right?

"Harry Potter."

The small Griffindor, soaked in his shadows, strode to the tent opening and walked into the arena.

It was very quiet at first. The leather of the dragon's wings creaked, its breath low rumbles rather like a really good muggle stereo with the bass all the way up. Wind whipped through off and on. No one in the audience said a word. Which was fine. They needed to sit back and watch the show. He stood tall and did his best to emulate a mixture of Draco and Tom at their most arrogant.

_"Lady Dragon, may I speak with you?"_

Pale brown eyes turned toward him and he was frozen in their gaze. Harry wondered if casually mentioning his blood was poisoned by Basilisk venom which didn't make for a good snack would be cowardly. Her tail whipped, Harry cursed and ducked.

_"Who speaks?"_

I do you over grown lizard stop swiping your damn tail at me.

_"They call me Harry Potter."_

She raised up a bit and leaned closer to him.

_"Why did they not present you to me earlier little one?"_

_"I was not to know of you."_

Hot air lashed out of her large jaws in a huff, scenting the air with sulfur and spice. Her voiced rumbled and rolled and vibrated the ground in her agitation.

_"They would keep one who speaks from us?"_

Harry grabbed a boulder to keep from toppling over from the dragon made earthquake. He could just imagine what Ron's reaction to this would be. Then he grimaced. He was likely to find out.

_"They wished to force us to attack one another."_

The dragon raised up to a sitting position then on to her clawed feet. Her head lowered, she growled irritably and paced in the small enclosure. Harry jumped out of the way of her tail many times. If he wasn't afraid she'd grow tired of him and take him as a snack any minute this would really be an excellent way to exercise.

Apparently she found this insulting.

_"Take the false egg wizard that is not a wizard. You will speak with me later."_

Harry bowed very low. He heard a gasap from the crowd and he looked up to see what was going on. The dragon was bowing back. A bloody dragon was bowing to him!

Keep his face blank and acting like he planned for this he turned then slowly walked toward the pile of eggs. The dragon moved out of his way and made no motion to prevent his progress. He picked up the golden egg, turned to face the audience and waited.

The crowd was on its feet.

Immediate quiet greeted him the medical tent. He waited patiently while he was checked over, they wouldn't find anything wrong with him. No injuries anyway. When he left he could see the judges having an argument in the box. After a moment there scores were announced. He was considering throwing a fit after Dumbledore gave him a six and cast a disappointed look in his direction when a strange girl dressed in black seated beside his headmaster raised her hand, paused to smirk at Dumbledore and shot a shimmering 10 into the air.

Who the Hell was that?

Dumbledore made his way toward him. Harry kept his face blank but scowled to his hearts content in his mindscape.

"Professor? How can I help you?"

"Harry...you must understand what you did was unnecessarily reckless. I would think your experience in your second year would be enough to remind you how cruel the world can be. I understand you wish to win and perhaps you couldn't think of anything else to do my boy but there will be no taking this back."

The old wizard placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"There are pieces of us, no matter how useful, in all of us that we must...repress. I know there are spots of darkness in your Harry, from your childhood and we both know that your life has been much easier in those moments where you kept them to yourself. Teenage rebellion is a part of life but reminding the world of the wizard who stole so much from it just to win a contest is selfish."

Harry flinched.

"You are a Griffindor boy. You chose that path yourself and now you must bear it and all that comes with it. This world looks to you for inspiration of what may happen even in the darkest of times..."

Stop talking.

"...as a public figure we must be conscious of how our actions effect the world around us. We can't afford to do as we please. You don't get to frighten people needlessly..."

_Stop talking. _He tried to take a step back and Dumbledore tightened his grip.

"...little Ginny Weasely? How must hearing the voice of the man who possessed her for a year be? Harry I think you need to step back and think about what you've done..."

A gloved hand wrapped around the headmaster's arm. The girl who gave him a score of ten. Harry watched Dumbledore eyed her hand warily. Initeresting.

"He's lovely Ablus but old men touching cute boys without their permission is generally frowned upon."

Dumbledore wrench his hand away like it burned.

"Tabbris, pleasure to see you again. I'd thought you would get your students settled once the task ended?" He spoke through gritted teeth, clearly displeased with this woman's presence.

"Rather like you I decided I'd rather be meddlesome instead."

Harry looked her over.

"Students...? Are you a teacher's aid?" Did wizards have those?

The girl turned to face him and he was struck by how small she was, just a bit taller than him and he was quite short himself. She flashed a grin. Her slightly pointed teeth made it less welcoming than she may have intended.

"I am a lead professor and acting representative for The Viridian. Shall I introduce myself while Albus scrambles for a reason for me to stay away from you? I am Serephina Tabbris, titled Arcana Deorum of the d'Arc Clan, ruling class in The Viridian. I am very...pleased...to meet you." She spoke softly in specific rhythm that swelled and slowed and disjointed its self. Some words drawled, others were quick and sharp.

Harry bowed, on instinct more than any real understanding of her position or authority. She just seemed like someone one ought to bow to when you spoke to her.

"I am Harry Potter, titled The-Boy-Who-Lived and current student at Hogwarts. It is nice to meet you as well my lady." He recited, carefully following her format.

Tabbris pet his hair with a gloved hand. He had an insane urge to purr.

"You are very cute."

Harry wasn't sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult. He was pretty sure he blushed either way. It was kind of embarrassing actually.

"We would like to speak with you privately," she gestured to some people standing behind her. A guard holding her parasol for her, a girl who had to be her twin wearing a medical mask and a very tall boy with golden skin and hair. "What do you say to that?"

He thought he might have actually growled when the headmaster chose that moment to regain his ability to speak and therefore meddle and cut him off. What, was he not allowed to speak for himself anymore? Think for himself or choose his own actions sure, that was obvious but dammit couldn't he hold his own conversation without anyone interfering?

"I am afraid I can not allow that Tabbris. Nothing personal but as Harry has no magical guardian here to represent him I feel I must stand for his privacy myself. You are a political official and I do think it may appear unseemly if you were to be allowed to bounce around and drag off foreign students whenever the mood strikes you."

He stared. His privacy? What rubbish.

Tabbris pulled out an envelope and waved it in the air. "I have here a filed and signed request form for a meeting from the boy's _legal_ guardian."

Dumbledore made to take it, a pale hand took it from his grasp, and Draco held it up, smiling sweetly and waggling a finger as if the headmaster were a misbehaving child.

"Uh-Uh. This should be delivered to the board of governors than shouldn't it? I can get right on that for you Lady Tabbris if it pleases you." The blonde bowed very quickly.

"Now there's a Malfoy right there. Is your father Lucius then?" The tall golden boy spoke for the first time.

Draco stood up taller and puffed up a bit. Harry snickered.

"Yes he is. I am his first born son."

Tabbris elbowed the golden boy.

"Right! I am Eridanous, Feral, first companion and advisor to Serephina Tabbris." Eridanous bowed and gave Draco a cheeky grin.

"Might I accompany you to find your father?"

The blonde tilted his head. "If you must."

He said it in a disinterested tone of voice but Harry could tell the Slytherin was soaking up the attention.

Tabbris turned to Dumbledore and made a shooing motion. "That will be all Albus thank you. I shall see you at dinner."

"Now," she said, looking Harry over as soon as they were alone. "Why don't you tell me about the dark magic stuck all over you?"

_Oh Hell._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summery: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN: **Another update for you guys. See? I'm being good about it. Damn, I just jinxed it didn't I? Aw Hell...

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_You never really knew me at all..._

_I can't undo the things t__hat led us to this place_

_But I know there's something more t__o us than our mistakes_

_you should've known me by now_

_You should've known_

* * *

Draco studied the boy to his left out of the corner of his eye while together they made their way through the crowd. He was even taller than Draco had guessed and his skin really was a golden hue. Definitely not all human then. What did he call himself? A Feral? He wasn't positive about that term, it wasn't one he'd heard before. Of course when it came to the Viridian he was certain there were many things he wouldn't be altogether familiar with, however his father knew a good deal more about the Viridian than even the other old families. Surely he would know? There was his father now in fact.

Draco signaled the boy, Eridanous, to follow him. It was easy to do so as the boy had kept inappropriately close to him the entire journey. Did he honestly look that untrustworthy?

Well, he supposed he might.

"Father!" He called out with his voice raised just enough to be heard above the crowd but not enough to be unseemly.

The blonde lord turned toward him, Draco's mother on his arm.

"Draco?"

Draco bowed very quickly, the boy next to him copying his example.

"Father, I have a signed form requesting and granting permission for a meeting between Harry Potter and the representative from the Viridian. It's meant for the board of governors. I wouldn't play messenger boy but when I saw Dumbledore so interested in it I thought to bring it to you myself father."

Lucius Malfoy nodded in approval, taking the form into his hands and skimming it. Draco was surprised when his father's face froze a fraction. No one else would have seen it he was sure but he had known his father his whole life and he didn't miss the slight slip, not did he miss his mother strengthening her grip around his father's arm and his father's corresponding wince. He desperately wanted to laugh.

"Lady is here?"

Draco blinked, confused. " Er, Lady, father?"

Eridanous raised an eyebrow at his less than exemplary eloquence and Draco shot him a look, refraining from scowling.

"She would be dressed in mens clothing, all in black or dark pruple, with silver instruments hanging from a belt and a sarcastic, flippant attitude."

"Ah yes, father. She was the one who requested the meeting, I witnessed her and Dumbledore were having a bit of an argument before the tournament started and then one again when I appeared and offered to take the form to you. I don't think they like one another."

Narcissa made a polite cough covering what was certainly not a snort.

Lucius flashed his wife a small smile. "Indeed."

Draco cleared his throat and elbowed the man next to him before he could see anything else.

"Right. If I might greet you Lord Malfoy? Narcissa? It's been a long time since last we met."

Both of his parents stared. Draco turned his head and hid his a smile. They'd forgotten Eridanous was even there. Serves them right getting caught up gossiping where anyone could hear them. He noted their willingness to talk about Tabbris and obvious previous contact with the woman. They didn't seem upset she was here...merely suprised.

His father greeted the golden-haired man stiffly where as his mother gave him a rare hug.

"Eridanous! Is Edanaithne here as well?"

He made a face. "Certainly not."

Narcissa laughed. "Yes, you never did like her."

It took all of Draco's breeding not to fidget anxiously. He didn't know what Tabbris wanted with Harry and though he now knew the Griffindor wasn't nearly as dim and reckless as he had portrayed in the past the small brunette was still woefully underinformed with the ways of the wizarding world and he seriously doubted his awareness of just whom he was speaking to. And if he was honest he didn't trust the boy not to accidentally sign away his soul in a verbal contract or some other such nonsense. It was just the sort of thing that would happen to him.

Draco blanched. Not that he worried about him. Not at all. The tiny fool could take care of himself. It wasn't his job to babysit the moron. Of course he'd have a tough time explaining to Tom just how Harry managed to sell himself or start a war or get himself killed.

**Killed.** Draco swallowed.

Oh Hell he _would _go and get himself killed wouldn't he? He'd say something utterly stupid and get himself beaten up and get stuffed in the bushes somewhere bleeding out. They could hide his body anywhere the grounds were huge. It'd be hours before anyone even thought to_ look_. He took a breath. It hadn't been that long. He couldn't have gotten in trouble yet. Right?

Draco snuck a glance at his watch. _It's been half an hour. Oh Merlin._

"Mother? Father? If you would excuse us I Really do think I ought to return to Potter's side. Who knows what mischief he can get up to speaking with royalty on his own. He needs someone to help him not make an ass of himself."

The blonde lord smirked, choosing to ignore the use of language, and gave his permission for his son's departure with an elegant wave of his hand.

"Do try to avoid a declaration of war. It would, I believe, make dinner awkward."

Draco, who had already started walking away, quickened his pace, face paling, Eridanous striding beside him and looking far too knowing for Draco's liking.

"What?" He snapped.

Eridanous gave him an infuriating grin. "I don't recall saying anything."

"You were certainly thinking it."

"Were you reading my mind?" He challenged, looking amused more than anything.

"I don't need to read your mind to see you're thinking things that aren't any of your business." Draco huffed, pushing through the crowd impatiently.

"I'm not saying a word."

"Good. There isn't anything to say."

Two Hufflepuff first years went flying as Draco shoved them aside, nearly running but not quite, head turning back and forth, silver eyes searching for a shock of messy black hair.

"I didn't say there was."

Was that Golden haired bastard really running backward beside him? He could turn back around and keep his facial expressions to himself thank-you-very-much.

"Good."

"Good?"

"_Yes, that's what I said you imbecile_. Good. That's it. End of the conversation. Now either help me find him or _shut up._" Draco growled.

He studiously ignored any snickering that may or may not have come from the golden-haired idiot.

* * *

**AN:** Questions? Comments? Limericks? Put it in a review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summery: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_My mind wanders endlessly_

_On paths where she's leading me_

_With games she likes to play_

_And words she doesn't say_

_Not when we're alone_

_And she's dressed in black_

* * *

"Oh I won't tell." Tabbris assured in that unnervingly soft voice, interrupting Harry's moment of panic. Rude.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"Should I?" She purred, walking around him in a long slow stride that swayed like a flower in the wind or someone standing on a pier. He swallowed, tensing when she stopped behind him,. He had to fight down the urge to spin and keep her in his line of sight. Harry wasn't easily intimidated and he damn well wasn't going to act it.

Tabbris continued her odd walk around him, tilting her head slowly this way and that, leaning and dipping with a rhythm he couldn't hear. Like a wolf. Or a tiger. A predator hunting. Shivers of fear clawed its way down his spine. It took all of his self control not to start shaking. To keep his breath even. He had the feeling this was a test and not the kind where failing was an option unless you wished to end your life. Harry knew, now, watching her watch him through darkened glasses. He knew why Albus Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards alive, why he froze when this one took hold of his arm. It was because playing the game with this woman was like playing Russian Roulette with lightning. And Harry wasn't at all ready for this kind of game. He'd never wanted a Slytherin to come to his rescue before in his life.

Obviously there was a first time for everything.

"Why do you ignore my letters? Refuse my invitations? No one else would dare. Have I managed to _offend you,_ somehow?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. When had she gotten behind him again? Damn it he needed to stay focus or this woman was going to chew him up and spit him out. He had to at least act like he could play the game until Draco returned and could tell him what to do.

He would never let anyone know he just thought that. Ever.

Harry sucked in a breath and willed his voice to come out even. "I apologize my lady, I am unaware of any correspondence from yourself or anyone attempting to communicate with me on your behalf."

Soft leather-clad fingers lifted his chin. Tabbris moved closer to him, examining his face from just behind and to the right of him. She smelled obscenely good, like peppermint leaves and candy, and Harry couldn't decide if that was funny or disturbing. Both maybe.

"Are you that lazy when it comes to reading your mail?"

He swallowed again, finding the small fingers near his throat more and more threatening.

"No ma'am. I hardly receive any letters at all. Usually just some now and again during the summer from my friends."

She smiled in his peripheral vision. "And your Godfather of course."

Harry nodded as much as he could with her hand holding his chin.

"Well yes he-"

His insides chilled. She knew. She knew he was in contact with Sirius.

The hand on his chin left and Tabbris reappeared in front of him, her guard doing impressive acrobatics to keep her parasol over her and the sun off.

"But no others?" She murmured it more to herself than to him but he nodded anyway.

"Well then, allow me to extend an invitation to you now. I do not know if you track such things but your written and practical exams in Defensive Magicks score very, very high each year, you are in the _eightieth percentile_ for your school. Furthermore you test very well with practicals in every subject. This is worth noting because for most people, as you may or may not know, they have an affinity for a specific branch of magic and find it easier than the others. This, of course, shows in their exams when they are in school and in the strength of their spell-work when they are old enough for such things. For you to be so young and so adaptable is very interesting Harry Potter. My _invitations_, which I have sent every summer from your twelfth birthday, is for you to come to our Summer Trials. We have special training schools or camps if you will, during the summer holidays. I imagined you might find the more advanced magicks more to your liking and that perhaps they might manage to keep your interest enough for you to bother with the written work? That is why you only do the required minimum is it not? During the school year? Because it is obvious you understand it."

The sudden playful tone of voice and teasing smile had Harry aching from mental/emotional whiplash. Was this girl bi-polar or did she just want to see if she could get him to piss his pants?

"I...I'm flattered but surely there are better choices? I may score high enough with defense for my year but I know Hermione Granger who is in my year scores high in all of our classes and I've never heard of her receiving an invitation?"

Tabbris cocked her head to the side.

"You misunderstand. Harry Potter, you score in the eightieth percentile for Defensive Magicks. This is a collective score. It means that you score higher than eighty percent of the _entire student body_. Not just your year."

Harry stared, completely gobsmacked.

"That was my reaction as well." She grinned, showing off slightly pointed teeth.

"I see."

All his requests for extra credit work. His requests to attend higher classes or test early. All of Dumbledore's excuses... It was available to him all along. He could have trained with Tabbris at this school of hers in preparation for the tournament. Harry clenched his jaw. He already knew why he wasn't receiving his letters from Tabbris. Someone was keeping them from him.

And that someone was walking this way. With aurors.

"Aw they came to welcome us." Tabbris cooed.

Harry wasn't an expert on these things, but Tom had never once mentioned aurors as part of polite pureblood socializing. He was pretty sure he hadn't just skipped that lesson either.

"Harry?" A hand waved in front of him. He blinked and looked to the side.

_Huh, she can speak._

"You should consider uh _breathing_. Anytime now. You're...blue."

Harry immediately rasped in a breath.

"Yeah that might help."

It was Tabbris' twin. He'd been entertaining the though she couldn't speak.

"Thank you."

She shrugged, glanced at the aurors, who were nearly on them now and gathering many looks from the crowd at this point, then looked back at him.

_"Watch this."_

With a toss of her long hair and a quick straightening of her bow tie, the strange girl approached the aurors. She waved. They saw her, paused mid-step, and scattered like cockroaches out of her way.

Harry snickered.

"Now, now Ambriel we're just here to talk..." A brown hair auror said, hands up in the universal sign of I-come-in-peace.

She made a mocking bow and sent a quick look to Tabbris, who what Harry guessed to be a nod of permission, and surveyed the aurors with dancing eyes.

"I can...see that. Friendly conversation just isn't the same without tea and uh...suspicious questioning at wand point."

The aurors shifted on their feet. The brown haired auror seemed to be the unofficial spokesman.

"I apologize Ambriel but Dumbledore had some concerns and we have to investigate them. At such a high profile event...it is our job...you won't be cross with us?"

"Why on earth would I be cross with you?" She asked, wide eyed. They looked relieved.

Harry got the impression that Ambriel knew exactly why she ought to be cross.

When the aurors began questioning Ambriel's presence Dumbledore decided he wanted to have another chat, thus he was shoved away from the group, the old man's hands like claws. Harry wanted to hit Dumbledore in the face but no one was asking him for his opinion. Pity.

In an interesting turn of events Harry was forcibly turned around by a new pair of hands before Dumbledore got a word out. He was seriously tired of being manhandled.

It was an out of breath Draco. _Thank you Merlin._ He allowed the blonde Slytherin to eye him up and down for whatever reason and twirl his around once more, one arm like a steel bar holding him tightly against the taller boy's chest and the other saluting cheekily at Dumbledore. He didn't seem to appreciate it.

"I regret to tell you sir, but if you didn't know, in accordance with the General School Guidelines instated 1812, in section 3 paragraph one specifically, you oughtn't be addressing Potter here without prior notice to his guardian and at least one other student present, especially in the er...bushes sir." The blonde eyed the headmaster suspiciously as if he may have been attempting molestation. Harry glanced up at his Slytherin friend and wondered if he mightn't be related to Tabbris somehow.

"And, of course, not at all if it isn't school related. Is this a school related matter sir? Because I would be more than happy to fill in as the required student chaperone if you've signed permission from his guardian handy." Draco beamed as if he wasn't threatening anyone.

Dumbledore smiled. "Mr. Malfoy I'm delighted to see this sudden burst of inter-house relations however I assure Mr. Potter and myself have spoken with on another privately on numerous occasions and he has, to my understanding, never found fault with me before."

Harry disagreed on that point. He found many faults with headmaster. He could write a limerick about them if he felt so inclined.

"Be that as it may sir, rules are rules!" The blonde practically sang.

"That they are, it's in the uh name and everything. And ya wouldn't be admitting to no rule breaking would ya Albie?"

_Albie?_

Dumbledore gave a smile that really was more of a grimace. He didn't seem pleased to have Ambriel inter the conversation.

"_Ambriel._ Thrilling to see you outside. In the fresh air. Not overwhelming I hope?"

Violet eyes narrowed.

"I got some special privileges. Good behavior and all that. The uh minister was happy to help me."

"Is that so?"

Tabbris leaned over, totally disregarding whatever her conversation might have been with two young aurors. They looked miffed at her lack of attention. She pointed off to the left.

"Speaking of which," She purred, "Here he comes now. Oh dear. He looks a tad upset with you. Whatever have you done?"

They watched Dumbledore race off.

"Spritely." She observed, then motioned for everyone to follow her. "Let's go eat. We can talk more than."

As soon as Harry and his new entourage was a good distance ahead of them Draco bent over, hands on his knees and let out gasping breaths he'd been holding in for far too long, he pressed one hand to his left side and gave a soft moan.

The golden-haired menace raised a brow.

"Side ache?"

"A bit."

"Winded?"

"Slightly."

Eridanous studied him. "Crises averted?"

"I believe so."

The man handed him a glass of water he got from Merlin knows where and clapped him hard on the back. Draco thought he might have bruised a lung as he choked on the water he'd started drinking. The look on the bastard's face proved he knew how much that hurt.

"Walk it off."

Draco scowled.

* * *

**AN:** Questions? Comments? Limericks? Put it in your review!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summery: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**AN:** In honour of reaching 100 reviews for this story I have a gift for ya! Tell something you would really like to see happen in this story, characters you would like to see interact or have a duel or whatever suits your fancy. Whoever gives me the funniest/cleverest/most creative review will get their scene request!

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_...and that's when I could see_

_That the ether that I tapped into could be reality_

_...that's when I climbed that optimistic vine_

_Once I hit that mountain peak I began to lose my mind_

* * *

The moment they entered the room of requirement the mini dark lord had Harry slammed against the wall, simultaneously demanding to know where he'd been, searching him for injuries, adding injuries of his own and snogging the poor Griffindor senseless.

Draco rolled his eyes, walking to his favorite couch and collapsing on it.

"Let me know when you're finished with your boyfriend so I can give my bloody report." He yelled in Potter's general direction.

No answer.

The blonde erected a quick silencing charm, as he really didn't need to hear any details, and sprawled over the couch. Bliss.

It was finally the end of a very long day and it had taken him up to this point to lose his golden-haired shadow who had taken it upon himself to annoy Draco at every opportune moment. He even took the last piece of chocolate cake at dinner and he wasn't even sitting at the inter-house table! He just walked down from the staff table and took it. Bastard.

Then Harry had given him his own piece stating he wasn't hungry anyway which of course led to Eridanous waggling his eye brows at Draco and pointing between him and Harry making kisses in the air. It looked ridiculous. And it was embarrassing. The only good thing was Harry's complete ignorance of anything other than the quidditch discussion he was having with Victor Krum.

The Griffindor would never have let him live it down.

Of course watching Tabbris argue with Dumbledore made it all worth it in the end. Who knew the headmaster could turn such a lovely shade of purple? He knew it was a shade of purple because Tabbris loudly commented on purple being her favorite colour but turning one's self purple was going a bit far. Draco swore he saw Professor Snape laughing behind his glass of pumpkin juice. He didn't know is godfather was capable of genuine laughter. Derisive laughter sure. Mocking laughter? His specialty! But real laughter was actually kind of frightening when he thought about it. Snape didn't look more welcoming with a smile. At all.

He shuddered.

Today had been a day of firsts all around it seemed. He cataloged it in his mind. The first visit from the Viridian to Britain in two hundred years. The first visit of the Viridian to Hogwarts ever. The first time a dragon bowed to a wizard. The first time anyone had ever spoken to a dragon either as far as anyone knew.

The first time an invitation to the Summer Trials had been personally delivered by none other than Serephina Tabbris herself. The first time Draco almost had a heart attack because of a Griffindor.

Bloody Griffindors.

After Harry and Tom got their dueling-snogging-insulting mating ritual out of the way they finally moved on to business. Draco dutifully provided his memory of the entire event which all three of them entered and observed. Tom had a lot of questions about Tabbris, which was understandable. However while Draco knew some of the answers, he didn't know most of them. This was unacceptable to Tom.

"Your soul purpose is to the answers to questions like these."

Draco raised his chin. "I certainly know more than you."

"Not enough."

He grit his teeth. "Why don't you ask her yourself then!"

"Once again that is not my job, it's yours."

"He did really well and I think he was a bit preoccupied with saving my from Dumbledore to pay more attention than that and really did do his best don't you think?" Harry defended Draco. Which pissed off Tom further.

Harry came to the conclusion that, apparently, beating the crap out of one another was just how Tom and Draco communicated best. They need hexes, curses and fists in order to understand one another's point of view. Or something. Rather like cavemen beating one another over the head with clubs he imagined.

"You are such an arrogant jerk."

"Guys?"

_"Flippendo!"_

"At least I'm useful!"

"Guys?"

_"Crucio!"_

_"Bombarda!"_

"Useful? You sit around up here lording over us with your books and research while we do all the real work. Do you know how hard it is to keep him safe? He's a damn menace!"

"If you paid more attention you wouldn't have to worry so much."

"Guys!"

"I do pay attention! It's not my bloody fault he keeps letting powerful people lead him to remote areas of the grounds. It's like he's asking to be taken advantage of."

He glared at the two Slytherins. "You make me sound like a damn damsel in distress, I can take care of myself you know."

_"Confringo!"_

_"Expulso!"_

_"Reducto!"_

_"Crucio!"_

Harry sighed, sat down and took out a Quidditch Weekly. He kicked up his legs onto the coffee table and settled down for a bit.

Five minutes later they noticed they didn't have his attention.

"Harry!"

"We're supposed to be working!"

"You're so lazy."

He stared at them. _Unfair!_ They ignored him of course, Tom picking up his notebook and Draco leaning against the desk like nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened. He guessed nothing really did actually. And then the conversation continued.

Their relationships were healthy like that.

Harry reported his private conversation with Tabbris, Ambriel's interaction with the aurors and Dumbledore's interruption up until Draco reappeared. Draco analyzed and reported on the meanings of voice nuances, body language, vague references, his father's knowledge of Eridanous and that he called Tabbris by a nickname. Tom, of course, put it all together. And told them when they were stupid and why. Because they were both stupid and he was a genius and that was what he was for. And if Harry had to hold tight to the back of Draco's shirt to keep him from tackling the other Slytherin again no one brought it up.

Tom wrote down key points in a muggle notebooks Harry provided then recited them allowed in a summery.

"What we know for certain is that this Tabbris is politically powerful in the Viridian, that she is offering training to Harry, Dumbledore has been blocking that training and Tabbris and Dumbledore dislike each other."

Harry nodded.

"It's more than that. They have something personal against each other." Draco remarked thoughtfully, replaying their interactions in his mind.

"Dumbledore doesn't want her around at all and they both resort to subtle comments about their past that are specific to the other. I almost wonder if they had been friends at one point. They know a great deal about one another...enough to have nicknames for each other."

Harry looked up. "That's right...they called him Albie."

Draco snickered.

"Really?" Tom asked, tapping his wand against his chin. "How interesting. Well, you know what they say don't you?"

Neither of them said anything. Wrong answers resulted in hexes and it just wasn't worth it.

"The enemies of thine enemy is thy friend."

"You think we should allow Harry to continue speaking with Tabbris? That we should take advantage of her and Dumbledore's dislike for one another and her obvious liking for Harry?"

"Precisely."

Draco nodded. "Yes and I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"And he can get information from Tabbris. Find out what her rivalry with Dumbledore comes from. We'll have to accompany him when he visits the Viridian of course."

"Well letting him out of our sight is just a bad idea all around. You know what he gets up to when he doesn't have us around."

Tom smirked. "I can just see the international headlines now...Boy-who-lived insults royalty sparking global stress on magical creature-wizard relations..."

"A Argent on the scene who was attacked by a Neko states he saw the raven haired teen call the visiting Veela prince a miss, which of course mortally offended him."

"More so when his cousin, future queen of the Fae, agreed."

Harry really ought to be offended that they were talking about him as if they had any control over what he did or didn't do, but he was so startled by their sudden cease-fire and camaraderie over his supposed foolishness that he forgot to be insulted. Then what they were actually saying filtered through.

"Oi!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summery: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_Now all that's left of me_

_Is what I pretend to be_

_So together but so broken up inside_

_Because I can't breathe, No I can't sleep_

_I'm barely hanging on_

* * *

In the alternating darkness and torchlight a lone student made his made his way through the deserted castle halls. It may have seemed strange to some, to those who didn't know him well, but he cherished these moments. Where he was alone while surrounded in the silence of thundering thoughts and faded memories and carefully avoided emotions that went unseen during the day. Here he could be himself. The darkness never judged him, and when he was young he fancied the darkness in his cupboard welcomed him like the family he was never destined to know. He strolled, arms bent over his head, breathing deep and made believe that, for a moment at least, he was utterly at peace with himself. He could pretend he didn't care about reputations or friendships or manipulations. He could pretend he didn't care about scars or barred windows or immaculate gardens.

Here he could acknowledge that no else did. Because, as far as he could tell, it was true. Oh they thought it was a bit sad and it was really too bad and all that other nonsense. They said it in passing and pretended to understand. Was it really so unexpected for him to begin to act the same way? Wasn't he just becoming the man they taught him to be? Because he had shadows and skeletons and he could be just as cold as anyone. He could be ruthless, he could be hard and harsh and jagged and uneven. He could do what he felt needed to be done to force the world inside an acceptable box of his own design, and he could make pretty speeches with words of sympathy mentioned in passing. He could pretend to understand their point of view, then convince then it was all for the best even though he didn't know them personally. He could and he would because he must and it was their fault. They made him this way. Not on purpose, they didn't set out for this to happen. But the thing is, if they had bothered to get to know him even a little they would have known that things like pretending and hiding and being selfish were all pieces of him to begin with.

And he didn't feel like caring anymore anyway.

He didn't feel like smiling. He didn't feel like joking. He didn't feel like pretending or laughing or behaving or doing what he was told. He didn't feel like it. And really, he didn't feel like that person anymore. He didn't feel like the-boy-who-lived today. Maybe he'd feel like him tomorrow? Or maybe he was gone and no one noticed him fading.

Maybe he had never been there to begin with. Maybe it was all an illusion the world created and he'd let himself believe. Sometimes it seemed that way.

So if he wasn't the boy-who-lived...who was he?

"Harry Potter."

The boy blinked vivid green eyes, turned and met eyes of unknown colouring hidden behind darkened glasses. He was less surprised by her presence and more by his suddenly cold and windy surroundings.

"Madame Tabbris."

The strange foreigner gave a sarcastic smile, if smiles could be sarcastic, and motioned behind her.

They spent an hour sitting along the top of the fence containing the dragons, just observing them in uneven swells of silences and comments and conversations that would never make sense to anyone else.

"Are the handlers protecting the wizards from the Dragons or are the Dragons manipulating the handlers into protecting them from the wizards do you think?"

Harry grinned.

"Oh they're manipulating the handlers, no doubt about it. Dragons are like snakes; fabulously lazy when they want to be. Spoiled too. A whiff of air that wouldn't have become flame anyway sends the handlers into a scurry for food and water and whatever else the Dragons might fancy."

She nodded sagely. "That does sound like them."

And it was quiet again for a moment.

"So Dumbledore, he does not like you. At all. I think he actually wanted to hit you when you started waving that form in his face."

"Yes, I do have that effect."

"I'd normally recommend behaving yourself but that really doesn't seem like your style.'

Tabbris tilted her head, failing to hide a smirk.

"It seems whether I am disgustingly acceptable or whether I am unfathomably wicked is entirely immaterial. He remains suspicious of me either way."

"If two end up dueling over the exact shade of blue the sky is I demand to be notified. I don't mean to be cheeky but you guys fight about everything there is to possibly disagree about so a physical conflict seems likely at some point."

"Oh there will be conflict but it won't be over anything so petty."

Harry sat up a bit straighter but otherwise tried to reign in his blatant curiosity.

"No?"

"No, it will over the very real, harsh and jagged shadows we see in the corners of our eyes and those like him choose to ignore.

That got deep pretty quick. Merlin was she weird. Speaking about something so serious with such a beaming smile.

"You see, Albus Dumbledore, in spite of my best efforts, refuses to see that pretending monsters away won't stop the bleeding when they bare their fangs and lash out their claws. This world has carefully hidden issues that have grown to big for their closets."

He swallowed. "That sounds ominous."

"You'd think wouldn't you?"

"How can you say something like that and still look so cheerful?"

Tabbris yawned, baring her teeth. "Why the Hell not? I look forward to it."

He raised a brow. "You look forward to monsters escaping their closets and showering the world with chaos?"

"Sounds mouth-watering doesn't it?"

"Are these monsters made of chocolate? Where can I get one?"

_"I beg your pardon?"_

Harry laughed so hard it hurt. Her offended expression didn't help in the slightest.

He told her a bit about Hogwarts, speaking for the first time of Dragon eggs and magic mirrors and professors who burned to ash. Giant spiders and cars with minds of their own were woven with tales of giant chess pieces, monstrous snakes, werewolves and talking diaries. And she listened without making a sound or nodded or gesturing or raising a brow, she just let him talk. He seized on it. This feeling of someone listening just to listen with no ulterior motives or undertones of jealousy or disapproval or disappointment. She just listened and when he was finished and his mind was swirling with relief and dread and adrenaline and bitterness she only squeezed his hand and offered to tell him about the Viridian. No criticism, no suggestions or overbearing opinions, That was it.

"You're not gonna tell me to suck it up and move on?"

"No trial, no suffering, no inconvenience is ever in vain. All hardships are compensated, in a deliciously satisfactory manner, if one only waits. I won't tell you to get over because I don't think you should. I think you should make a list and keep it with you and have it ready because a day will come Harry. There will be a reckoning and these self righteous bastards with their plans within plans will get what is coming to them. If I would give any advice at all I'd tell you to remember, now, in this moment, how all of this has made you feel. I want you to remember the sleepless nights, the ridicule and the backstabbing I want you to put it into a box and keep it fresh so that you never forget it."

Harry stared at her.

This had to be the last thing he would ever imagine coming out of an adults mouth. It wasn't the least bit responsible.

And then Tabbris filled his head with steamships that were also trains and skies like oceans with magical creatures swimming through them below rivers of lightning. She told him about the gardens there where she liked to walk on her own at night and she told him about the secret room with rare books and potions and mirrors that weren't mirrors at all, and and a library you could only find if you had a map given to you by someone who already knew where it was. About beasts who looked like men called Ferals and when he asked if Werewolves were Ferals she didn't glare at him for the interruption, instead she looked pleased which confused him more than anything else she had done. She gave him a smile and an approving nod and launched into an explanation, her smile growing with every question he asked.

He politely refrained from mentioning her pointed teeth or the way various wildlife ran away in fear when she laughed. In fact he actively tried to convince himself they weren't anything but normal teeth and the birds were spontaneously migrating.

Because while he was having fun speaking with her, he was also kind of terrified.

"Tabbris, Mr. Potter I think we should returned to our assigned quarters for the night, don't you?"

Harry almost fell off the fence and probably would have if Tabbris didn't grab him and keep him steady.

Her turned and scowled at Dumbledore, standing in all his holier-than-thou glory with two aurors and several staff members.

"Aw c'mon Albus loosen those bootstraps and relax a little."

"I would think you'd have _learned your lesso_n about breaking rules by now Tabbris."

The small woman flipped her legs over the side, smile gone, and jumped down, the air around her dropping several degrees and Harry wasn't positive it was all in his mind.

"I have always derived indescribable pleasure from leading a decent man to the edge of sin and leaving him there to live between the temptation and the fear of that sin. It is in these moments that you see the truest view of the heart of someone. The real man beneath the daily facade. In this way I know my friends far better than you know yours. I know which to keep. Would you like to know the hearts of your men Albus? I can see them even know. Would you like to which are, at this very moment, entertaining their doubts? Would you like to know which would sell their souls to touch the temptations you so abhor? Which already have?"

There was a humble and terrifying silence. The old wizard opened his mouth, warily, as those behind him shifted uncomfortably, to speak. Tabbris cut him off.

"No I don't think I'll tell you. _Let that be a lesson_."

"Enough. I forbid you, Mr. Potter, to meet up with this woman again without a proper chaperon."

Harry recoiled. He forbid him? Who that barmy old man think he was? Harry could be friends with whoever the Holy Hell he wanted.

"The glamour of being forbidden must never be underestimated." Tabbris quipped.

Dumbledore moved to grab Harry. Tabbris grabbed his hand first.

_"Run."_

They sprinted through the outskirts of the forbidden Forrest, those they left behind cursing. Five minutes into their game of hide and seek Harry found himself laughing in his adrenaline high. This was reckless and stupid and probably the coolest thing any adult had ever done with him. Tabbris came to a sudden stop and they both toppled over. He looked around, they were at the quidditch pitch. Squinting he could make out a few of the dragon handlers and some early riser students in the stands and sprawled around the field.

They'd been out all night.

"To breakfast you think?" She asked, standing and dusting herself off. Tabbris clearly had no intention of changing her clothes or otherwise hiding the fact she did not go to sleep last night.

He shrugged and followed her back toward the castle. He was being forced to take part in a competition where people died. It wasn't like there was much worse they could do to him.

Harry received several detentions and a very long lecture.

Tabbris bribed Moody using a bright smile and two bottles of unknown liquid, in exchange the professor agreed to be their chaperon for their night time wanderings. Harry was of the opinion the scared man fancied Tabbris.

They met up every single night after Harry's training with Tom and Draco. Dumbledore wasn't pleased.

The small Griffindor couldn't have cared _less_ if he tried.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M.** For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_This is it, the Apocalypse_

_...welcome to the new age_

* * *

Draco insisted on coming along on Harry's adventures with Tabbris as his 'student escort'. The blonde tried to pass it off has just to make the whole thing airtight, and he even gave Harry a silver band to wear around his wrist that could send for the blonde if he needed him.

Harry thought Draco just wanted an excuse to be out of the castle after hours. Draco seemed a bit put out by this.

Still, he could think of worse ways to spend his nights than walking through Forbidden Forest with a Slytherin, a mad ex-auror and two...whatever the Tabbris twins were. They discussed all manner of things and Moody was even more forthcoming outside of class. That was saying something as he didn't seem to have any boundaries inside of a classroom to begin with really. He and Tabbris got along swimmingly and now Harry knew it for a fact that the man had a crush on Tabbris. Everyone seemed to notice except for the object of his affections, who was totally oblivious to it. This only served to make the whole ordeal hysterical to Harry, Draco and Ambriel who'd taken to watching it like a sporting event. He'd brought her a bottle of Fae Wine, Powdered Unicorn Horn, an International Portkey to the dragon reserve in Romania that was good for three months and five rare books on illegal Goblin Mind Magicks.

According to Draco these were Tokens which were gifted to the person the wizard wished to court. A wizard found things they believed their intended would like or enjoy and gifted it to them in hopes of said person accepting them, which she had but Harry was pretty sure she didn't know what they were meant to be, and if they felt confident they moved on to what was called an Intention of Courtship. At the point is what all on the other party to accept or deny the courtship. The blonde looked uncomfortable when he explained it and averted his eyes awkwardly a couple of times while Eridanous gave him mocking smirks.

Harry wondered if the Slytherin maybe felt bad for Moody or something.

Tom was a bit put out at being unable to attend though he wouldn't say as much. It was for the best in Harry's mind and Draco agreed when they spoke of it. The world was a safer place when it was world where Tabbris and Ambriel did not meet Tom Riddle.

As time went on and the holidays drew nearer Tom became more and more possessive of Harry and more argumentative with Draco. He picked fights for no reason at all and sometimes Harry came in to find him pacing back and forth like a tiger in a cage. He was irritable and restless and growing on Harry's nerves. Tom wanted to know where he was, when he was there and who else was there and why they were there. Draco was having a Hell of a time paying enough attention to this and his assignments to provide adequate memories for Tom so he could confirm Harry's responses to these questions which, in turn, pissed off Draco who was with Harry most of the time, as he was assigned to be, and the blonde took it as an offense on his guard duty skills.

One week later, exactly a week before this cursed Yule Ball he was being forced to participate in, Harry forgot his reasons behind wanting to keep Tabbris and Tom apart and threw caution to the wind. This wasn't really anything news worthy if he was being honest with himself but he had avoided doing such things for the most part and it was terrible to relapse now. Alas, sacrifices must be made.

Which brought him to standing in front of an amused Tabbris and company, on his knees.

"Please Tabbris. I need you to help me. I can't take it anymore, he's going insane not being able to monitor my every move. It was alright before, he was only a little unbearable, but now with you lot hanging around and the more stuff were learn and ow this damn ball thing he's just completely lost it."

"Can you...say that in a way that at all makes any sense?"

"I have a friend hidden in Hogwarts who shouldn't be here and he's a possessive git and I can't take it anymore, I need a reasonable excuse for him to be here without anyone knowing who he is or in Dumbledore's case...recognizing him, so he can see what I am doing and stop driving me insane."

Harry may have slurred a lot of that together, he was insanely nervous about someone overhearing them and he really was thinking that maybe letting a teenage Dark Lord out of the room of requirement might not be worth the resulting Azkaban sentence.

A dark brow rose above dark sunglasses. Tabbris hummed and tapped her chin with a gloved hand.

"What _exactly_ do you wish _me_ to do? And what do I get out of it?" She the last with a flash of a toothy grin.

Oh. He probably should have considered whom he was speaking to before asking.

"Get?"

"Dearest Hadrianiel-"

_"Hadrianiel?"_

"-no matter how fond of you I might appear to be I can not give out favors for free. I never have. It'd be bad for business to start now. So, what are you willing to give me in exchange?"

_Yes just butcher my name to all Hell._

Harry pondered this. She didn't need money and he couldn't teach her anything- hang on.

"I teach you to speak with dragons."

Tabbris straightened immediately and shooed her sister and whatever Eridanous was to her, off. She did that circling thing which always un-nerved him, then stopped and simply examined him. Harry thought he prefered the circling.

"Done. Retrieve whomever this 'him' is, as you've refrained from saying his name. It's a bit obvious why." She took a step closer and petted his hair as she was one to do.

"In fact, I bet this is that darkness I always taste on you."

The hand moved and Harry cursed when he realised he'd purred. Again. Dammit.

Two hours later and Harry was standing outside with Draco holding on to a frozen and tied Tom who looked beyond pissed.

Tabbris wasn't at all fazed by the teenager's glare.

"Alright. I have a plan. How do you feel about attending The Viridian?"

She snapped her fingers at Draco and pointed at Tom. The blonde pouted but lifted the curse.

"The Viridian?" Tom asked, anger at being kidnapped pushed aside in favor of the possibility of new magic. Excellent priorities that one.

Tabbris nodded, eyeing him up and down and making strange motions with her hands in the air in front of her. She looked like she was weaving invisible threads.

"Yes, if we're going to have you out and about you'll need a reasonable reason to be here. Fortunately I can provide you with that. You can be a student of mine here to observe the tournament. No one is allowed a list of students for our school in order to protect our secrecy, they have no way of verifying whether or not you should be here or even how many students I brought along. You don't even have to tell them your name or talk to anyone if you do not wish to do so."

"That...is actually really clever."

"I try." Tabbris replied dryly.

"Alright er, what are we going to do about his looks?" Harry asked.

Changing Tom's name wouldn't do much if Dumbledore got a good look at him.

Tom turned to him. "And just what, precisely, is wrong with the way I look?"

Harry squeaked in a very manly and hid behind Draco in a very brave way. Totally. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Get over yourself Riddle. Harry is trying to keep Dumbledore from recognizing your ugly mug and sending an _Avada _your way."

"Oh. That's alright then."

Tabbris paused in her air weaving. She cocked her head. "What do you think about being cousins?"

Tom blinked."Cousins?"

She didn't answer, only pushed the invisible what-ever-it-was she was working on at Tom, who glowed for half a minute. She places gloved hands on his shoulders and spun him around to face Draco and Harry.

"Well? What do you think?"

Tom looked, well, like a male Tabbris. Same sandy skin, same sleek hair, same petite stature though he was still taller than Harry. He even had violet eyes to match Ambriel.

"Brilliant."

Tabbris put up a silencing barrier then surveyed the three of them.

"Good. Now why don't you tell me who _exactly_ it is that I'm giving a fake identity and agreeing to hide_ illegally_?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M.** For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_I read the trail your feet made, each step deliberately placed_

_It looks like you know where it leads but I see nothing but leafless frozen trees_

_About 1/4 mile into the course, another set of foot prints appeared next to yours_

_from the north it came out of the thick woods, and those footprints belonged to a big wolf_

_Stalkin' ya, Watchin' ya_

_Salivatin'_

* * *

Harry, for whatever reason, looked to Draco to supply a suitable resoponse. It may have been somewhat offending, that he assumed the Slytherin to have a reply readied in case of such a scenario, but he did believe it regardless of it's possible offending side effects and so he stared at the blonde expectantly.

He expected a well thought-out cover of half-truths spoken artfully to satisfy Tabbris' understandable curiosity. What he got was a blunt response of truth he could have managed on his own.

"He's Harry's boyfriend. He's also Voldemort. Sort of."

Harry hit the taller boy on the arm.

"You're fired."

"Oi!"

"And he's not my boyfriend." Harry grumbled.

Remarkably Tabbris, instead of calling for the aurors or demanding an obscure oath to confirm this madness, turned to Tom with undisguised glee.

"I do love _Riddles_."

And that raised all kinds of questions Tabbris would never answer.

Mostly because they were interrupted before the conversation could go any further.

"Ah Tabbris, circling the herd in the absence of the Shepard are we?"

Tabbris sent a beaming smile at Albus Dumbledore, acting for all the world as if she wasn't standing next to a Dark Lord she had disguised and was hiding illegally at a school for children.

"Albus. Pleasure to see you. Lovely night."

"Excellent for stalking prey I'd imagine."

Dumbledore replied pleasantly, gesturing at the nearly full moon, though his twinkling eyes looked between Tabbris, Ambriel, Eridanous and Tom, and Harry and Draco disapprovingly.

"Better to live one day as the Wolf than a lifetime as the Sheep."

"Yes, until an axe strikes your heart."

Tabbris bared her pointed teeth. "I best hope no one cries wolf then."

"You best."

A gruff clearing of a throat had them all jumping and twirling around. Moody leaned against a tree just behind them as if he'd been there all along.

Harry felt his heartbeat quicken, had he?

"Now Albus, you and I know there are worse than Wolves in this forest."

Tabrris smiled at the old auror.

"Far worse." She agreed.

Dumbledore's slight stiffening of posture was the only sign he was displeased to find that the lot of them were not in violation of any rules as both a staff member and an additional student were present to sanction the little get together.

"We were discussing Riddles before you happened along, out of the blue, entirely accidentally following your feet to find yourself in our presence. Would you like to hear a favorite Riddle of mine? It's one of those, moral dilemmas."

"It's been a long time since you've given me a riddle."

Tabbris reached a gloved hand out from the shadows of her parasol and into the faint moonlight.

"Have you recovered from my last?"

"I have a found a plan of action yes."

"Good. Then you might enjoy this one. I know I will. You are sitting in a private room of an otherwise crowded location when you are handed the solution to the worlds problems currently weighing on your mind. Tis like an act of Fate. You are given the opportunity to build a world of general contentment and orderliness with a lack of war and strife in exchange for the heart, the soul, the blood and the tears of one individual. You are even given a clue to the individual's identity. You may or may not choose the right individual, but either way the person whom you choose will be forced to suffer unimaginable pain as a direct result of your choice. If you have chosen correctly, however, you have guaranteed the future of your world, or so you fully believe. What do you do?"

The smile left Dumbledore's face along with all pretense of friendliness.

"I thought you were warned about breaking the rules Tabbris."

"I've not broken any. Obviously. Or I wouldn't be speaking, would I?"

Blue eyes narrowed. "You come close to the edge, I wonder if you are prepared for what awaits you, should you fall?"

"The difference between you and I is that I already know what awaits me."

"So you say."

"I say it indeed."

Draco tapped Harry's shoulder. "Do you have any bloody idea what they're on about?"

He shrugged. Honestly Harry was getting used to Tabbris and Dumbledore making references towards one another that no one else was privy to. He turned and left them to it, Draco following along behind him. He didn't think about the strange conversation again until the night of the Yule Ball.

"We are living in a culture entirely hypnotized by the illusion of time, in which the so-called present moment is felt as nothing but an infinitesimal hairline between an all-powerfully causative past and an absorbingly important future. We have no present. Our consciousness is almost completely preoccupied with memory and expectation. We do not realize that there never was, is, nor will be any other experience than present experience. We are therefore out of touch with reality. We confuse the world as talked about, described, and measured- with the world which actually is. I am not suggesting we forget about our pasts and our futures, but rather that we acknowledge and grasp and utilize the present. There will never be anything other than the present afterall, the tomorrow you feared yesterday is today and always will be. I have found living with this in mind is helpful to an overall more enjoyable life experience."

"That's hardly fair Se- Tabbris. Perhaps some of us would rather forget both the past and the present and only dream of an untouchable future, preferably with a belly warmed from alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol." Moody downed a swig of whatever it was he had in his flask to emphasize his point.

"That only works when the hangover is worth it, and the hangover is only worth is you take fantastically risky and irresponsible journeys while inebriated that work out when they shouldn't and make for excellent stories to brag about afterward."

"Damn." Moody cursed.

Laughter flitted along the table.

Tabbris leaned around Dumbledore and patted Moody's arm, grinning unrepentantly. The man was ecstatic.

Draco cleared his throat and looked away, hiding an amused smirk.

"I've never heard you sound so human." Dumbledore commented, studying Tabbris with an odd look to his eyes as she sat back down.

Several people around the table stiffened. While Tabbris' and indeed Ambriel and Eridanous' lack of humanity was for the most part known, Harry knew enough etiquette to know mentioning it when the person themself has not is very rude.

"That, sir, is a lie. You of all people know I have it within me to be exceedingly vindictive and cruel. That is quite human."

"A lack of a heart will do that to you."

Harry choked on his water.

"Make me more human? Or meaner?"

"Perhaps both."

Tabbris tapped her chin. "Alright, but does it make me a bad person? This humanity?"

Everyone had stopped pretending not to listen in at this point. Some ever forgot to eat, forks hovering while they watched the verbal sparing.

"I don't know if humanity has anything to do with it. I believe some of us are just the bad sort from the beginning and no amount of instruction will prevent them from continuing on this path."

Snape, who sat at the far right of the table, snorted. "Says the headmaster of a school."

"Says the one among us with the least liking for teaching." Dumbledore returned cheerfully.

The dark haired man ran a long finger along the brim of his glass, making it sing.

"It is not teaching I dislike but those who are not inclined to learn."

"All students are inclined to learn if one only gives them the proper motivation my boy!"

Tabbris raised a gloved hand. "Hang on, are not those who are not moved by any amount of instruction disinclined to learn?"

"It is not that they are disinclined to learn, it is that they cannot be taught."

She tilted her head. "You are not just wrong. You are wrong at every conceivable level of resolution. Zooming in on any part of your worldview finds beliefs exactly as wrong as your entire worldview."

McGonagal spat out her wine, having inhaled it as she choked the moment Tabbris accused Albus Dumbledore of being wrong about anything.

"How is that?"

"Because, Albie, you are claiming that something is impossible. Impossible is not a rule, it is not an unbreakable law. Impossible is a challenge. It's a dare."

Harry quite agreed. "Sir, we are beings of magic. Our entire point of being is to do the impossible. It is what we are. I myself am already impossible."

"In a variety of ways." Added Snape dryly.

Tabbris sat up straighter and peered around Fleur and Trelwany, both whom sat between her and Snape, and peered at the man curiously.

"I stand by my earlier statement." Dumbledore said, waving off the comment.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Once again you contradict yourself Albus."

"I do not."

The potions master appeared to be counting to ten.

Tabbris flashed a pointed smile at him. "Do not fret Severus Snape. Debating a person who is fractally wrong leads to infinite regress, as every refutation you make of that person's opinions will lead to a rejoinder, full of half-truths, leaps of poor logic, and outright lies, which requires just as much refutation to debunk as the first one—kind of like a nested Gish Gallop, where each point both surrounds and is surrounded by an equally wrong argument. It has nothing to do with your communication skills."

"I keep envisioning a day where I manage to convince him that he is not infallible."

They continued their conversation as if Dumbledore was not sitting just beside Tabbris and could hear everything they were saying. This seemed to both annoy and amuse the old headmaster.

"It is as impossible to convince a fractally wrong person of anything as it is to walk around the edge of the Mandelbrot set in finite time."

Snape's lips twitched up at the corners. "Quite. But to Hell with finite time."

Harry pointed between Tabbris and Snape accusingly.

"That's Muggle math and science!"

"I do read Potter." Snape said, returning his attention to his meal.

Tabbris only shrugged. "I may or may not know some muggles."

Eridanous snickered into his napkin. Tabbris elbowed him, then turned to Dumbledore.

"Do _you_ read?"

Dumbledore, far more offended by this than anything else that was said, though Harry couldn't decipher why, stood up quite suddenly and opened his mouth.

Harry wondered if they were going to duel. That would certainly be choice entertainment.

He'd prefer to see Tabbris and Snape duel, actually, but he'd take what he could get.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating:** M. For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

**That's right, two updates in one day. Behold my mother freakin' awesome. I was going to wait and post this in a few days but then I thought 'f*** it.'**

* * *

_Looking at the snow it was plain and clear, there was a third set of wolf prints where yours disappeared_

_I can't process, I don't follow, __It would be easier to believe that you were swallowed_

_With no sign of death, no sign of struggle, no signs of blood, no signs of trouble_

_...I forgot to worry about what you became_

* * *

Draco coughed into his fist. "That escalated quickly."

Professor Flitwick decided it was best for the lot of them to engage in dancing and so it was a bit before he could return to the safety of a table. He'd have to congratulate Flitwick on his distraction techniques.

He secured a seat beside Draco and found to his amusement he had arranged several dates to the dance. They, of course, weren't aware. Tom glared at each every person who persuaded Harry to dance, even Tabbris who blew the Dark Lord a kiss without a care. Speaking of the Devil she sat to Harry's left, fanning herself with a legitimate silk fan, her guard just behind her and very much out of breath from attempting to keep the light off of her. Harry would really have to ask her if that was strictly necessary one of these days. Along with the sunglasses which he had yet to see her go without.

Tabbris nudged him. "Because it hurts."

"Er...?"

"Your Tom. Why his mood gets progressively poorer the longer you are apart? It's because it physically hurts him to be away from you, the pain increasing the longer amount of time he goes without your presence. More so without physical contact. This is why he acts, as you say, _like a possessive git_."

Harry turned and studied Tom for a moment, the boy was currently rejecting every single student that asked for permission to sit beside him, engage him in conversation or get him to dance.

"Why didn't he just say so?"

"Because that would be admitting to a _weakness_ Harry. He refuses to admit to himself that he needs you around so he covers it with misplaced anger. He isn't upset with you, he is upset with himself. Tom he is...very independent."

Harry smirked. "That's certainly _one_ way of putting it."

"And you continue to sit here, knowing he is in pain. You heartless bastard."

Harry gaped.

"If you were looking for heartwarming sugary niceness there's a disgusting Hufflepuff right there."

She pointed to her left where Cedric sat.

"No offense, you are not disgusting on your own, just your house and everything about it."

Cedric, who'd been staring at Tabbris with adoration the last five minutes, didn't notice the insult, he only nodded mindlessly. Fleur, who sat to the left of Cedric, stabbed at her salad like it had personally offended her. Draco move his chair a bit away from the veela, gathering all the knives on the table as he did so, muttering about 'safety zones'.

"Are you ever going to tell me the story between you and Dumbledore?" Harry asked, rather inelegantly.

Tabbris was silent a moment. "We have...crossed paths many times and occasionally even walked along one or the other together for a small while. That was a very long time ago and we've burnt bridges and raised walls since then. It makes our interactions...strenuous."

"Such as accusing one another of hunting people?" Draco suggested.

She half-laughed. "Ah, _that_. I upset him because if I were a Wolf I'd not be a Wolf in sheep's clothing, which is what he would choose if he hypothetically had to make such a choice, I'd be a Wolf dressed plainly as a Wolf and I'd be accepted amongst the sheep all the same. He can't stand it."

Draco munched on a piece of bread thoughtfully.

"The sheep do not fear you even though they can see you are a wolf?"

"Not in the way they should. You see, they would fear a man they discovered to be a Wolf in sheep's clothing, just as one might fear Dumbledore, not because they truly think there is anything to fear but because their minds come up with lovely visions of what the man might do if one were to anger him. Not that there isn't any reason to fear him, there really, really is."

"Like Grindlewald." Draco supplied.

Harry nodded along, a bit confused and hoping it wasn't showing.

"Yes. Me however? They know they _ought_ to be afraid, they know enough to respect me, but they aren't ever truly afraid. Only respectful of the_ possibility_ of something to fear. This is because they don't have an account of what I may do if they angered me. If they gave me a reason to give them fear."

"Why not?" Asked Harry.

"Because there is no one around to warn them otherwise."

Draco swallowed harsher than he meant, half coughed, drank water, sat his fork down and stared at Tabbris warily.

"Because you've never done anything worth mentioning or because these people are incapacitated by death or by oath or some other means that prevents them from saying anything?"

"An excellent question." Was all the reply he gained.

And really, that was all the response that was needed.

"Your thoughts are...unique. Dumbledore bullies you a bit for it." Cedric noted. He apparently did in fact know how to speak in Tabbris presence. That was a step up from Moody who took two weeks before he could even look her in the face without stuttering like Quirell.

Tabbris nodded slowly. "He does, though he does not see it this way. I believe he calls it 'character building'."

Cedric scowled. "That's bullshit."

Harry stared.

"What?"

"You are a horrible Hufflepuff."

Draco snickered.

"Bullying builds character like Nuclear waste...?" Tabbris asked the table at random.

The sole Gryffindor bounced in his seat. "Oh! Creates super heroes! ...or super villains..." Harry trailed off.

"Precisely. I despise bullies."

"You don't hate them?" Fleur asked, seemingly over her earlier episode though she still held on to her eating utensils with more force than strictly necessary.

"I don't _hate_ anything. Hate is an unworthy emotion, and boring besides. If I am going to dislike someone I want to have_ levels_ of dislike so they know precisely where they stand in reference to everyone else I dislike. I have no one I hate. I have people I loathe, people I despise, people I can't stand and people for whom I've created strangely realistic dolls I keep in odd places and occasionally do horrible things to. I don't hate a single one of them. Hate would be insulting, they deserve so much more."

Tabbris, who'd been flailing a fork around as she spoke, blinked when Snape, who had joined the growing audience around the table a few moments back, removed the potential instrument of death and devastation from her hands and placed it well away from her.

"Nothing sharp for you, I think."

Draco seemed to agree. He took the knives he'd collected, which were place beside Harry for safe keeping, and moved them back to his other side beside the veela.

Harry didn't blame either of them.

After several mindless hours of pretending he enjoyed dancing, and occasionally actually enjoying himself, Harry escaped in the mass exodus that occurred around midnight. He wandered along the halls, not quite ready to return to his dorms. A confrontation between Ron and Hermione earlier had put the small Gryffindor into a low mood. He still didn't know if he'd be able to continue a friendship with the two and now it looked like their own friendship was falling apart without Harry there to even it out.

He was caught off guard when he turned a corner to see to people having a conversation in the semi-dark. He dashed back around the corner and pulled on his invisibility cloak. Quietly he looked around the edge of the wall.

Tabbris leaned against a hanging tapestry, something Harry was often yelled at for doing, and Albus Dumbledore stood before her. He watched her removed the glove from her left hand and place it lightly along the old professor's cheek. And there, where Dumbledore stood only a moment before was now a handsome thirty year old man with rust coloured hair.

"How long must you punish me?" The man, a young Dumbledore Harry realized, asked.

"Albus, you do this to yourself. There are lines we cannot uncross."

The young Dumbledore ran fingers through Tabbris' dark hair. "You ought not to meddle in the boy's affairs."

The Gryffindor looked around for Tabbris' guard. _The one time he's actually needed..._

"I ought not to meddle among humans at all. However, _you_ shouldn't meddle in the boy's affairs either."

Dumbledore twisted a lock of hair and yanked on it playfully.

"I am doing what is_ best_ for the world Al-"

Tabbris yanked back. "You lost the privilege of using my name _Albus_."

Hary blinked. Her real name wasn't Serephina?

Dumbledore's shoulder's drooped. "I have apologized Tabbris. How long must I wait for forgiveness."

The petite woman shook her head.

"What you have done, even I can not undo. You were young when you made your first mistakes Albus, as most are, but when we _repeat_ our mistakes they stop being mistakes and become _choices_. Your conscience is not my problem."

The headmaster stood taller and pulled her closer, hands grasped about her shoulders tightly. Harry winced out of empathy.

"You will not continue this path Tabbris. You have no business interfering. I am protecting my world!"

Tabbris tilted her head. "Yes, after you almost destroyed it. Let's not forget that."

She reached out her ungloved hand to grasp his wrist but he pulled away quickly. The woman who was not a woman grinned.

"Careful, Albus, I'd hate for anyone to think you were trying to tell me what to do."

"You cannot tell him. You _can't _and he will _hate_ you for it if he ever finds out."

"No, he will hate _you_."

Dumbledore hit the wall beside her. Tabbris didn't even flinch.

"Dammit Tabbris, I am being serious. You will tell him nothing, he mustn't know."

She only turned and began walking away, toward Harry's hiding place. "I haven't a choice in the matter. You removed my choice a long time ago."

"I know you Tabbris. You will find a way around the rules, it's what you do." Dumbledore called at her back, his face regaining it's lines, hair growing and fading and turning to white again.

"You could even say it is my purpose." Tabbris shot back over her shoulder.

Harry stepped back further into the darkness when she rounded the corner. His mind was a jumble of confusion. He couldn't make sense of most of their conversation but he knew, he just knew the boy they were speaking of had to be him. Why did Dumbledore want Tabbris to stay away from him so badly? What were they keep;ing from him? He thought he could trust Tabbris. He thought they were friends, why was she keeping secrets?

Harry followed her to her spot along the Dragon fence in the forest. He waited a few moments, to avoid suspicion, before removing his cloak and standing beside her.

"I think," she began, as she often did when Harry joined her. A conversation starting from nowhere, sometimes with no purpose, "I think there are two moments in our lives far more important and world-changing than any others and I don't mean getting married or having your first kiss or graduating or anything else so mundane. I mean the two moments that don't seem all that significant to anyone else until the ramifications of them years later, when Kings are made, kingdoms established, wars won, monuments raised and fortunes acquired."

Harry settled himself against the fence.

"Which moments?"

"Can't you guess? The moment you are born..." She reached out and pet his hair affectionately. "And the moment you discover why."

Harry had enough, he pushed her away.

"I want to know what is going on with you and Dumbledore Tabbris._ Serephina_. Because there is obviously something going on here that I don't know and not the normal everyday things you know that I don't, but the sort of things Dumbledore likes to keep from me. You are keeping secrets from me._ I thought you were my friend_. Tell me. Please don't keep things from me." His voice started out calm but had risen by the end.

Tabbris straightened. "You _will not_ speak to me like this."

Invisible bars of steel wrapped around him at her order, Harry had to focus all of his will power to break them. He immediately pointed his wand at her.

"That, that there. What the Hell _is_ that? Tell me please!"

"Are you going to curse me Harry?"

_Are you going to kill me Harry?_

He paused. Harry no proof she betrayed him. Perhaps if she would only explain herself, he'd understand.

"Tell me the truth..."

"I can't! I want to, I want to tell you everything. You're m-" She coughed. "_Dammit._ Your par-" Her voice cut off, hands flying to her throat, she collapsed to her knees.

Alarmed Harry ran forward, pulled her hands back and froze. There beneath the fabric of her tunic lay a metal choker about her neck, a choker that was now burning into her skin. It wasn't the first time either, he could see years worth of scars around her neck.

Harry ran his fingers along it gently.

"Who has done this to you?" His calm voice just barely hiding the fury beneath his chest. He'd never felt this sort of righteous anger on the behalf of someone else before, it was always his own against the Dursleys. But seeing someone like Tabbris, someone so strong with a collar around her neck like an animal...it infuriated him.

"My best friend." She answered, voice raspy and bitter and broken in places.

She knelt before him, sunglasses on the ground, hair messed, a single tear down her cheek. Eyes closed in pain and humiliation. And it was his fault.

"I..._Merlin_ I'm so sorry Tabbris. I...I didn't know I just..."

Not knowing what else to do, he hugged her.

"It is not your fault my Hadrianiel," She mangled his name again, on purpose he supposed, trying to cheer him up. Lighten the mood. But it didn't work.

Harry felt his heart harden just a bit more when Tabbris stiffened and shivered in a way he'd once done. The reaction of someone who'd never felt positive physical contact getting their first embrace. He had of course noticed her desire of personal space and her slightly standoffish manner with those she didn't know invading it unless she initiated the contact, but he'd attributed it to something more along Snape's infamous dislike for most people. She didn't want the germs of the unworthy on her some such snarky nonsense. He hadn't considered there might be more to it.

Only an hour earlier an old man was returned to his youthful-self. This young man had looked at her with tenderness, had asked for her forgiveness.

An odd sort of darkness consumed him then.

_Dumbledore did this._


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating:** M. For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings:** Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions?** Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_If I told you what I was would you turn your back on me_

_And if I seem dangerous, would you be scared_

_I get the feeling just because, everything I touch isn't dark enough..._

_A monster! A monster! I've turned into a monster,_

_...and it keeps getting stronger_

* * *

Harry had a lot to think about, a lot of things he didn't understand. Questions. Choices. So he stayed away, kept his distance for the remainder of the break. Even from Tom though he knew it hurt him.

Because Harry wasn't sure how to handle any of this new information let alone process it.

There was his strange connection with Tom, for one, revealed to him by Tabbris who was magically prevented from telling him important things by Dumbledore. Dumbledore who was keeping more from him than he previously imagined. There was the tournament and his goals for the future and Draco with his lessons and his strange over protectiveness.

Harry paced down in the chamber the only place he could think of to go for complete seclusion. Tom, seemingly realizing that Harry was having an emotional battle left him to it. Merlin knew how long that would last though. He rubbed at a phantom pain in his chest.

He felt like he needed a button to push pause on the world and time and everything going on until he knew his own opinion on the lot of it and could make the correct choices. He didn't know if he should continue to trust Tabbris, if she were telling the truth. He didn't think she would lie to him outright, or that her pain was acted, but he also hadn't thought she'd been best friends with Albus Dumbledore once upon a time either. ...of course just because they were friends once didn't mean anything now. A lot of people were friends once.

She did say she had a capacity for vindictiveness and cruelty.

The Gryffindor groaned and rest his forehead against a moist wall. He didn't know what to do.

What he'd originally wanted was to gain control over his life, teach Dumbledore to let him alone and maybe wreak havoc while he was at it. He wasn't sure if he should let himself become attached to any of these people outside his alliance. What did it matter of Tabbris was being tortured? What did it matter if she kept secrets? He might find out eventually, without her help.

Of course it could be very important...not that she could tell him anyway.

He groaned again, sliding down the wall to the floor. The coolness felt good at least.

Well, he thought, all people operate from two base motivations don't they? To fulfill desire or to escape pain. So, both Dumbledore and Tabbris had to be acting in the most effective ways there were capable of to either fulfill a desire or to relieve their suffering. Dumbledore desired control over Harry, for whatever reason. Tabbris desired- what? He didn't know. She did have pain to escape, it was obvious from her scars she had tried many times to find a way around her prison. Dumbledore, too it seemed, had pain to escape. He was trapped in an aging body that Tabbris could return to form, and in search of forgiveness. These were their known motivations that Harry could see.

He turned around and pressed his back to the wall, rubbing a hand over his forehead. His chest still ached.

Actually, when he let himself tone his suspicions and really look, he was sure that he and Tabbris suffered the same affliction. Eleutheromania: to fiercely and passionately desire freedom. Tabbris made her choices based on her personal opinions of freedom and justice and truth, from what Harry had seen of her and remembered from her conversations.

And anyway, didn't it go 'you should never trust someone who wants something from you'?

He knew Dumbledore wanted things from him, that was very obvious. Tabbris...she seemed interested in matters where it would gain Harry additional freedom from people like Dumbledore. The extra training, the lectures, the offers of lessons, the nightly escapades... It was all done to give Harry more freedom. To give Harry more personal power.

Why?

Why did this woman care so much about Harry? Care enough that Dumbledore felt the need to magically prevent her from revealing things to Harry, when Harry had never even met her before.

Wait. Didn't she supposedly have a form earlier in the year filled out by his guardians in order to speak with Harry privately? Did she go threaten the Dursely's or something?

_I have here a filed and signed request form for a meeting from the boy's legal guardian._

Guardian. Singular.

_"No ma'am. I hardly receive any letters at all. Usually just some now and again during the summer from my friends."_

_She smiled in his peripheral vision. "And your Godfather of course."_

_Harry nodded as much as he could with her hand holding his chin._

_"Well yes he-"_

She knew Sirius. Tabbris was either in contact with his Godfather or knew with enough certainty that he was was in contact with him and the Dumbledore knew about it for her to use that as an excuse to see Harry. And he knew Draco had delivered that letter to Lord Malfoy, but that didn't mean it was legitimate either.

Harry huffed. He needed to start paying more attention to the things people said offhand in conversation.

Harry sat up straight. What did Dumbledore say the other night? He was doing what was best for his world? And what was that riddle Tabbris had given the headmaster when he interrupted them in the forest that last time? Something about being given the answer to the worlds problems with payment of the soul, tears, blood and heart of someone in exchange?

_"You see, Albus Dumbledore, in spite of my best efforts, refuses to see that pretending monsters away won't stop the bleeding when they bare their fangs and lash out their claws. This world has carefully hidden issues that have grown to big for their closets."_

Too big for their closets.

Damn, now he knew why Tom kept a bloody diary. There was so much someone could say that doesn't make as much sense when they say it as it does later on when you have a chance to look back and examine it from afar.

"Impossible is not a rule, it is not an unbreakable law. Impossible is a challenge. It's a dare." Harry repeated aloud to himself, letting the words echo in a tangled kaleidoscope around the chamber.

Serephina wasn't her real first name, it was something that started with 'AL'. And she'd implied Albus wasn't Dumbledore's first name either. Though Dumbledore did have a large amount of names.

What was it she called Harry? Hadrianiel?

Merlin what did all of this mean? It was as if it were all laid out in front of him but he just couldn't piece it together. It was there, right there, he could almost see the bloody answer but he was missing information and he didn't know where to look to get the answers. Tom and Draco didn't know either and if he asked Moody the man might tell Tabbris he'd asked and Harry still wasn't sure what to do about her.

He stood, scowled, cursed, rubbed at his chest irritably and began the trek out of the chamber.

Half an hour later he dropped two, thick, rare books on to a table in the library. _Alchemy and the Search for Immortality by Nickolas Flamel_ and _Transfiguration from a Quantum Perspective by Stephen Hawking_. Brown eyes looked up at him, startled, then flickered to the books on the table. Small hands picked them up, mouth dropping open in surprise.

"Harry! W-where on earth did you get these?"

Harry turned the chair around and sat on it backwards, arms laid across the back of it. "Don't worry about it. I need your help."

A thin brow raised. "...are you bribing me?" He smiled just a bit.

"I'm trying to."

White teeth bit a bottom lip. "I just- well what is it you need?"

"I need you to help me figure something out but you _cannot_ tell anyone what I am going to tell you. I'll need an oath."

Unpolished fingers tapped on the table nervously, their owner both curious and suspicious. "That sounds sketchy Harry."

He leaned across the table and gathered two hands into his own.

"_Please Hermione_. I need your help."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M**. For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_I know, I know, I just know you're not gone. _

_You can't be gone. No._

_Come on, Come on, don't leave me like this, _

_Something's gone terribly wrong..._

_You and I walk a fragile line, I have known it all this time_

_Never thought I'd see it break, _

_Never thought I'd see it_

* * *

Harry left Hermione with much to think about and nothing at all to say, unless she wished to die.

Not the friendliest interaction but she was big on authority and until he could trust her not to go running off and telling all of his secrets out of misplaced dedication to the rules, he wasn't going to remove the oath. He might even keep it on her forever. She'd promised to help him, it was an open-ended oath he was surprised she hadn't caught, and she was very, very useful.

He turned down a hall and jolted. For whatever reason invisible shards of ice were forcing themselves into his chest, at least that's what it felt like. He raised a hand to his chest and held himself upright against the wall with his other arm. The freezing pain almost burned with it's intensity and he suddenly needed to run and he was running, his feet were flying and the world around him blurring. Walls and doors and stairs came at him and passed him by and he'd look back and wonder how the Hell he managed not to kill himself. The pain was sharper and harder and his breath came in ragged clumps and choked sobs and half screams and this feeling of impending doom wouldn't leave him.

Something was wrong. I t was so wrong and it pulled and pricked and pinch at him with pointed fingers of scorpion tails and basilisk fangs and other nasty things. He couldn't shake the damn fear. Something was fading and leaving and he'd never get it back if he didn't hurry. The emptiness growing in his chest was unbearable.

And he was dying, he was dying, he was dying.

He came to a stop when his feet stop their motion in front of an old classroom down a hall no one had ventured into in a very long time, inches of dust covered the floor and several small bones of some sort of animal were visible through it all and they crunched with his steps. He opened the door and looked inside. There on the floor was Tom. That wouldn't be anything at all worth even noticing on a normal day. Finding Tom in such a creepy place was actually quite fitting. It was the lack of moment that stilled Harry's heart. It was the coolness to the touch and the stiffness of his fingers and the vacant look in his eyes that made his insides slick and oily and burn.

He was moving quickly and then slowly and then quick again, muttering all the medical spells he could think of, trying in earnest to confirm that Tom was not dead. Because he couldn't be dead. because he was Tom. He was his Tom and if he died without permission Harry would find a way to bring him to life and kill him himself that inconsiderate bastard! Who said he could leave Harry?

The magical summary appeared before his eyes and though Tom appeared dead he was only in a sort of coma, his body shutting down as far as it might with only his magic sustaining him and even that was waning. In fact he should have been dead long before now but he was powerful and his magic and kept him until now. Of course it had, there wasn't anyone stronger than Tom,. He was Tom. But he wasn't waking up no matter how Harry shook him and he couldn't think of what to do. He couldn't move him like this and he couldn't ask for help?. How would he explain it when they tested his magical signature for curses and saw he was Tom Riddle? Madame Pomphrey may not know the significance of that but Dumbledore would and she'd certainly mention finding a teen in a room who nearly died. People talked about that sort of thing. He could erase her memory afterward but he wasn't very good at that and he couldn't get Draco to do it because he didn't know where he was and he couldn't get his map from his room without Ron following him and trying to get Harry to talk to him. He also didn't think he could leave Tom now. Like this. Alone.

_Wake up._

And then he was sobbing and muttering and saying things he shouldn't, willing Tom to wake up.

"You need to wake up you git." said Harry. "And don't think I'm being sentimental either, I'm being very selfish actually. Because you're like my oxygen you know? I don't always acknowledge you, because you're always there, but I need you to live all the same. And maybe I should have said so but it was so obvious I didn't think about it. I also know it's been hurting you and I stayed away anyway and I haven't been paying you much attention at all lately and I'm sorry and you can't hear me say it but it's true and I am and _its my fault I know it."_

_Wake up._

He check his pulse in several places and didn't know what to do with hands when he finished so he did it again. Harry tried feeling his magic but Toms signature was fading and it was slipping from his grasp.

"I must have you. Don't you see? I could have asked anyone for help but I spent months finding a way to get you and bring you to me. No other would due. It had to be you. My very soul _demands_ you and it will be _satisfied_ or it shall take deadly vengeance on it's frame. I can not bear a world without a Tom Riddle to tell me when I'm stupid and give me a hit to the back of the head when I need it. You are a dark jigsaw piece with alternating curves and edges and bits that bite and bits that sting and bits that are sad and a little bit broken. Everything I fear to admit I am, everything I long to be, my fears and my desires and shadows and skeletons it's all embodied in you perfectly. That's what you are to me. Perfect."

_Wake up._

In a vague, messy, blurry way he could realize that his magic was escaping his control and that lights were flickering and the stones in the floor were decorated with cracks and snaps of vicious fiery melancholy coming from him and flaring out as it darkened and deepened with tones of misery and obsession and fury and fear. He could see it and know it but he also didn't because he wasn't there in that world just then. All he could see what Tom and all he could feel was Tom and he knew was Tom and nothing else could ever matter enough to break concentration from Tom.

_Wake up._

"Be angry with me. Hurt me. Curse me. Insult me. Tell me I'm an idiot and tell me you'll never speak to me again. Look me in the eye and then walk away without a word, keep your forgiveness and let me suffer. Only, _only do not leave me_ in this abyss where I can not find you! One can not live without oxygen, without their soul. So bring them back to me."

His mouth uttered such words without his consent and God help anyone who might overhear and think to tease Harry about them later. Because there were people near now, he heard shouts and shrieks and stamping of feet as they moved about in terror of the shaking and moaning and creaking of the castle in its response to Harry's jadedness. They would look for the source and if they heard him and they spoke of it he'd kill them all. These words and these feelings and these moments were his and Toms and none of their business and it was sacred in its honesty and brokenness. These were things none of them knew about Harry, things they weren't meant to know, these were his secrets and his fears and things he hadn't known about himself until they came from his lips.

_...wake up._

"Part of me wants to set you on fire and hold you while the flame consumes us both, to eat your heart so I know that only I will ever possess it entirely. I want your focus on me and only me, your thoughts and your words. I don't want you to have any other friends you care for or hate us much you care for and hate me. I want to be the only one who makes you feel these things and makes you angry enough you curse me just a bit too hard and then you mend me because you care for me and you hate it so you ignore me afterward and I never resent you for it because I hate you so much I want to lock you in a cage and keep you to myself because I couldn't bear to share that emotion with anything else. Only you."

The magical pressure was drowning him. Harry leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Tom's

"You're my best-friend Tom. Didn't you know?"

And then it was silent and still and dark and he couldn't see anything. Harry opened his eyes. He stood in the midst of endless white above and below and to the left. There was nothing but him as far as he could see. But he could feel it. He could feel it, it called to him. A presence.

It smelled like parchment and ashes and sweat and the earth after a rain.

"Tom?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M**. For a reason folks.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream_

_I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_

_And I know it's true that visions are seldom what they seem_

_but if I know you, I know what you'll do_

* * *

Hermione Granger wasn't stupid.

Even people who didn't like her, and there were quite a few of those, would admit to this fact.

Hermione Granger wasn't stupid.

It was the annoyance of Slytherins, the outrage of Ravenclaws and puzzlement of Hufflepuffs. Her fellow Gryffindor's hadn't been fond of it themselves, at first. She was a very specific sort of smart, she remembered most everything she read, and at least the sort of book if not the title of the book its self where she got the information. She was a good researcher and prided herself on knowing bits of obscure information on every topic of magic she discovered. The bushy haired girl would never be a master of anything, but she would always have the facts people were looking for. She would always be the one people came to for help, even if grudgingly.

Unfortunately this had it's downside. Being sworn to a magical oath to help research information by your supposed best friend was one of them. Utterly unexpected, but it happened all the same.

She watched her devious friend walk from the library while she finished picking up her things. She had of course hoped that Harry would approach her eventually, she enjoyed the privileges afforded to her from his friendship, his non-judgmental character and his sense of humour. Rarely shown as it was. It hurt her a bit, actually, that he came to her when needed something and not out of a sense of friendship. It also hurt that he'd sworn her to a very serious and deadly vow to keep her silence rather than rely on the fact through duty of friendship.

Hermione supposed she had betrayed his trust a bit the year before when she informed McGonagal of the mysterious broom present. But she;d only wanted to protect her friend and she'd do it again the same if she had the chance to relieve the moment. And she did have that chance. She'd had a time turner, a magical object allowing the wearer to turn back time a desired amount and do as they wished with it. Her's had a been a heavily regulated device gifted to her by the school to help her attended all her classes. Hermione had been tempted beyond sanity to use it to fix that situation. Her self-control was truly admirable.

For the most part.

Because no one knew McGonagal had allowed Hermione to keep the device after Hermione told her it'd been broken. Dumbledore vouched for her when she told him in secret it was a result of the 'incident' at the end of the year when he had given her and Harry permission to use it illegally to save Harry's godfather. Neither of the knew it still functioned. And she would never tell.

Hermione Granger wasn't stupid.

She broke from her thoughts when the world decided to shake its self. Literally. Books went flying, chairs tumbling, students colliding, shelves tipped over. Several Ravenclaws climbing over one another to get out of the way of one to Hermione's left. She reached out and grabbed a pillar in the middle of the room, clinging to it desperately. An earthquake? No, the scent of magic was heavy in the air. A magical accident then?

Harry!

She tripped and scuffled out the door smacking into the far wall. Her sneakers squeaking as she tried valiantly to run in a straight line through the tilting, quivering hallways and randomly falling stone that thudded around her ominously. Echoes of shrieking students glittered around her in a chilling stereo. She turned abruptly on a staircase when she saw a flash of white blonde hair.

"Malfoy!"

Silver eyes flickered toward her.

'Did you see Harry pass this was? He was just in the library and I can find him anywhere I wanted to make sure he was-"

Her words whipped away from her. A cool hand wrapped about her wrist and tugged her after its owner. She fell into sync with his long strides automatically. Hermione was a track girl in school before Hogwarts and running was still something she liked to do. When she wasn't reading.

"You saw him at the library." Malfoy prompted, pulling her down another set of stairs.

"Y-yes," she answered, stumbling a bit went the Slytherin jumped across to another staircase impatiently, "we were there together."

"Do you know?"

She didn't have to ask what he meant. He wanted to know if she knew Harry's secrets. The ones he kept from her and told to once rivals and frightening foreign students and possibly non human women with sharp teeth. Not that she was bitter about it.

Hermione but back a half-shriek when Malfoy stopped and turned around to look at her.

"What did he tell you?"

"I know only a small bit of it. Harry requested my assistance with something. I cannot say how or what. I know that there is more to it but he hasn't told me. I cannot say anymore, he made me swear."

Silver eyes lit up. "That'll do. Come, he needs anchoring."

"He? _Harry? _This is Harry doing all this?"

"Granger," said Malfoy, turning and continuing their journey down tot he depths of Hogwarts, "it's always Harry."

"Yes, well, now that this little _encounte_r is over, where is it we're going?"

Hermione jumped and looked over her shoulder at the small entourage following behind them that was slowly growing.

"I told you Eri, I can just tell where he is. We're close."

The golden haired boy who Hermione supposed was Eri lengthened his stride to run alongside Malfoy. "Shouldn't you inform Tom?"

The younger boy shook his head. "No, Tom'll be there. It's probably his fault too."

"You always blame Tom."

"Who else can get a reaction like this? Dumbledore was in the hall with us and Tom left a little while before the castle decide it wanted to play hopscotch."

Hermione's chocolate eyes narrowed. "_Who_ is Tom?"

Malfoy turned to her, surprised she was still there.

"Er..."

"Not...not _that_ Tom?"

"I-"

"No, no you said he was in the hall, I've never seen him but Dumbledore would certainly recognize-" Hermione trailed off, thinking of the Viridan student who joined Harry's group recently. The boy Ginny always stared at apprehensively, with searching eyes that never found what they were looking for. The boy with dark eyes who looked like Tabbris and kept watch on Harry like an animal watched prey.

"Oh my God. That boy, that's him isn't it? You've been hiding him in the-"

Eri clamped a hand around Hermione's mouth, curling her into his chest and pushing them forward.

"You can have a revelation later, I'd rather Harry didn't bring the castle tumbling down on us."

"Agreed."

Hermione looked behind Eri and choked. Tabbris her sister and _Professor Snape_ of all people were there. Was everyone in on this?

Tabbris. The woman with dark hair and dark clothes who ambled around Harry like swirling, clawed shadows. Dumbledore distrusted her, it was obvious. She was dark,t his too was obvious. Harry adored her. All of this together made Hermione immensely, rightfully in her opinion, suspicious of the woman. Hermione was able to stare at the woman suspiciously a lot easier when Eri lifted her up and held her over his shoulder as they ran after the second time she stumbled. Which was very indecent as she was wearing a skirt. And it wasn't her fault, he was insanely tall. What was he- _part tree?_

Tabbris ran along behind them, her footsteps soundless, soulless eyes behind darkened glasses trained on Hermione's brown eyes. Watching her. Like she knew the thoughts she was thinking. Hermione shuddered. This woman was int he middle of this, Hermione was certain. For instance, that boy who she now knew to be Tom? He was supposedly from the Viridan wasn't he? Where students conveniently do not have to give proof of identification to foreign authorities. Tabbris was the highest ranking teacher at that school and it's representative. She would have signed the paperwork allowing Tom to become a student. Harry would have asked her to do it. She knew who Tom was.

Harry's own suspicions and confusion surrounding the woman were the reason he sought out Hermione to begin with. He wanted her to figure out who this woman was to him, what she and Dumbledore were hiding. Her, apparently, not by choice though Harry did not elaborate on why she was unable to tell him herself.

Hermione had doen a lot of research while they were int he library and she hadn't told half of it to Harry, she wanted to double check her work before throwing ideas out there. This was important to Harry after all. But she did know interesting things. Like names. Names were interesting things. Well, as Harry's friend it was her job to keep him safe even if he didn't thank her for it. Even if he lost his trust in her and forever made her swear vows from then on. She promised not to tell what he told her, not to not investigate on her own.

"Curiosity really ought to be one of the seven sins." Hermione murmured.

A snort. She looked back up at the smirking woman, swelled herself with determination to test this woman who was so interested in her friend, and spoke.

"_Eridanous_. A constellation. River. _Sirius. _Brightest constellation visible from Earth. Canis Major. In alignment with the Pyramid of Giza. _Serephina. _From Seraphim. Firey-winged. _Tabbris_. Angel of self determination, with dominion over free will, choice, and alternatives. _Ambriel. _Guardian angel. Truth and protection."

Hermione paused, noting with satisfaction the smirk had melted off of Tabbris' face.

"The colour _Violet, _associated with power, devotion, pride, mystery, independence and magic its self. Royalty. Also the colours of the _d'Arc Clan _and _The Morgan_. You are associated with both. _The Morgan_, also known as the _Dragonkind_ is a Demon class magical creature. But you're only half _Morgan, _aren't you? Serephina Tabbris isn't a _Morgan_ name, it's a _Maecenas _or _Angelus _name. The _Maecenas _are named by their mothers. That makes you half _Morgan_ and half _Maecenas _but there's only ever been one recorded instance of this happening and it is a high topic of debate among the magical and non magical communities to this day, shrouded in mystery and myths and false leads."

Tabbris pulled Hermione from Eridanous, who, like the rest of their audience, had found the scene between the two women momentarily more interesting than the violently shaking castle.

_"Jamiel. Lilith. Hadrianiel_-"

The older woman shoved Hermione against the wall, holding a finger to her mouth in the universal sign of _keep your mouth shut. _She felt her jaw click together.

Hermione Granger wasn't stupid.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

*Quick Note: If you are confused about some things now and again? Yeah, it's on purpose. You don't have all the information yet for it to make sense. If you're used to my writing this is probably obvious but someone was puzzled so I thought I'd put a note here in case it _wasn't_ obvious.

* * *

_As a child you would wait and watch from far away_

_You always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play_

_In youth you'd lay awake at night and scheme, of the things that you would change_

_The time will come when you'll have to rise _

_above the best and prove yourself_

_Here we are_

_We are the warriors_

* * *

Harry picked Draco Malfoy to join his alliance with Tom, rather than stay as a duo, for a very specific, very cunning reason. Draco noticed everything. Body language, micro-facial expressions, nervous tics, habits, eye contact or lack thereof. Whats more, he noticed what was normal for each specific person, what was off for them. Draco knew who was speaking to whom, who was friendly with whom and who was at odds with whom simply by walking into a room and taking a quick glance around. He memorized past socializations and compared them with ones before his eyes to acquire a more in depth analysis of social undertones otherwise easily missed.

He saw the life's tragedies and hidden romances and petty feuds that would one day shape the social status of these same people as adults. Things that would help him as a politican. Once this was in preparation for taking over his father's Lordship one day. Now it was information for when he ruled the world. Draco would supply the right information to Tom who would then make plans and collaborate with Draco over what Harry should do or say and to whom and when. It was going to be flawless.

Because Draco noticed everything.

He also was the first to know when someone was up to something. This is why he was still the only person in school, other than Professor Snape, who had yet to receive a successful prank from the Weasley twins.

So, when he sat at a table in the great hall for studying, sitting with Tabbris who was arguing with Snape, both sitting at the same table as he, Draco was noticing things. When Eridanous and Ambriel left the high table to come sit beside him and engage him in conversation he was noticing things.

He noticed Dumbledore walk in, pleased with himself, he noticed the female Weasel staring at Tom warily, he noticed Tom press a hand to his chest and his dark brows furrow in confusion. Draco noticed Tabbris' slight smile of delight when she engaged Snape in arguments. He noticed Ambriel's always filled plate, as the woman never ate in public. He knew that Nott was poking Blaise in the ribs, trying to get the dark Italian to tell him some gossip.

And he knew something bad was going to happen.

He came to this conclusion when an hour and a half later Dumbledore muttered words under his breath, Tom clutched his chest violently and left the room and a strange spikey feeling zig-zagged up his spine, all at once.

On edge, the blonde stood and pace around the table slowly, eyes flickering over the room casually.

"Little Malfoy?" Called Eridanous, concerned.

Draco shook his head, his pacing quickening, "Something is wrong."

"What sort of something?"

"I'm not sure-" He froze. Aw Hell, where the fuck is Harry?

A glass smashed into the floor off the table. Another one fell off another table across the hall. A book-bag fell.

Draco blinked.

And then they were all flying too and fro, glasses, books and people. Screams sounded. Everything was shaking and tumbling and getting tossed about.

"Shit." Draco grabbed on to the edge of the table struggling to keep standing.

"What the Hell is going on?"

"Harry." Said Draco, which to him explained everything.

Tabbris gave up on staying in her seat and climbed over the table to get to him, everything on it long since fallen to the floor. She slid off in front of him, grabbing onto his shoulder to stay upright. "What about Harry?"

"Harry. It's Harry."

Harry is doing this?" Eridanous asked, shouting over the noise.

Draco nodded though he wasn't sure if it was possible to tell over the flailing his body was involuntarily doing. "I have to find him, he's doing something stupid."

He turned and ran out of the hall, sliding and running into tables and other students, and falling ot the floor a few times on the way. Eridanous helped him up and they held each other to stay on their feet. After a minute he found a sort of rhythm to it and he could run easier. Those following behind him soon copied him.

"Do you know where he is?" The golden haired boy asked, running along beside him.

He really could let his hand go already.

"Sort of. It's hard to explain." He always knew where Harry was. The direction anyway. He just did. "Look, Harry has a hell fo a lot of power, he just doesn't use it like normal people do. It sort of...fluctuates with his emotions and intentions. It's very wild. This isn't a bad thing but he hasn't been taught to burn it off." Draco explained in lecture mode as they ran through the halls.

"He's one of those people who has to repress his feelings all the time so getting into an emotional state make him lose control. This is the first time as far as I know that he's lost control completely. This is insane. His magic has taken its self out of his control in his distress, it's being fed by his emotions and creating it's own intentions to act out it's master's inner turmoil. This sort of thing happens to young magical beings on a smaller scale but on a teenager? This is unheard of. Harry needs to be anchored so he can regain control."

"You got all that from broken glass and screaming children?"

Draco shot him a smug grin. "I'm part of the trio for a reason _Eri, _reading people, storing information and making connections is what I do. They don't keep me around just for the view. And anyway, I can smell his magical signature, the castle is full of it."

Draco noticed a Gryffindor on the stairs. Draco noticed footsteps following behind the group. Draco noticed an argument in the background. He filled the information away a focused on the present.

"If we're done threatening each other I found them." He said airily, turning from Granger and Tabbris who were glaring at one another, and heading down the hall. Bones crunched under his feet and tried not to wonder what they might be. Draco opened a door to a very old classroom in time to verify that both Tom and Harry were here, one lying on the floor and the other knelt beside him, before the energy around them flashed and they sunk into the floor.

Draco stared. Damn.

"Now what?" Asked Granger, eyes looking around the room as if it held all of the answers. She was being surprisingly calm in face of chaos. Of course she had practice with Harry so perhaps she was immune to panicking by now.

"I know where they are. It's the only place they could be. Come let's-"

"Excellent Mr Malfoy, won't you kindly show all of us the way? I too am concerned about my student."

Draco painted a cheery smiled on his face, "Headmaster, shouldn't you be helping the students the great hall? I'm sure they must be frightened."

Albus Dumbledore smiled easily and walked into the room, the cracking of bones beneath his feet sending chills along Draco's skin.

"i find this little group of adventurers," his blue eyes flicked from Tabbris, to Granger, to Snape, to Draco, "far more interesting. What an...unlikely group."

He motioned out the door behind him. "Lead the way Mr Malfoy."

Shit.

On a normal day this was bad, but Draco had the suspicion that the headmaster was responsible for their current situation. Tom had held his chest in pain around the time Dumbledore entered the hall, Dumbledore had done an incantations of some sort, Tom had left and now the castle was falling to bits around them and Harry's magic ahad taken Tom and him to the... Well, Dumbldore couldn't know who Tom was or where they were, but he obviously hadn't expected to see Tom with Harry nor had he expected Draco to know it was Harry causing the ruckus. Draco was intelligent but so was Dumbledore, the man wasn't stupid and nothing good would come form him seeing anything that happened next. If bloody Granger could figure it out so could Albus Fucking Dumbledore.

And Draco had no idea how to handle this. He couldn't lead the man to Harry, but he couldn't tell him to sod off either. And time was wasting and things were still shaking and dammit he'd figure it out as he went. That always worked out for Harry.

He didn't know why he was the unofficial leader of this little group, not one of the four damned adults with him had anything to say? Maybe it was because it concerned two of the trio he belonged to? He wasn't sure but he hoped they placed their faith correctly because he was terrified of making the wrong choice. If Dumbledore figured it out there would be no going back from that.

While his mouth danced to stall Dumbledore, his mind was focused on a haunted bathroom with a hidden entrance.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_The promises, hollow concessions_

_I touch your hand, a hologram -Are you still there?_

_Are you friend or foe? Because I used to know_

_We used to love one another, give to each other, -so_

_Are you friend or foe? __Because I used to know_

* * *

Hermione watched Draco Malfoy face down Dumbledore like she'd never seen either of them before. Both starkly different from the faces she'd seen everyday, every moment to now. Smugness and cool superiority turned to marble strength and steadfast loyalty, twinkling eyes and humorous smiles turned to ice chips and danger.

Since she'd joined the magical world she had expected for things to surprise her on occasion. This was a world of magic and it was to be expected. But this flip flop of personalities? What _was_ this?

In a very short time her world view was shifting dramatically and she wasn't sure she liked it. She knew, for instance, that Malfoy was into Dark Arts. Fact. She knew that Tabbris was dark. Fact. Hermione knew the Dumbledore was considered the leader of the light and just about the most morally decent person you could find. Fact.

So, even though she was very much against everything dark, especially as a muggleborn, why did she find herself firmly planted on Malfoy's side in this? Harry was her friend shouldn't she be trying to telepathically inform Dumbledore of everything going on? Her oath prevented her from giving the information but should Dumbledore meet her eyes and take the information, well that wasn't her fault was it? She'd read about wizards who could do such things, it was an outlawed art but it was valid during the time Dumbledore could have learned the skill and he was more than powerful enough to do so.

But no, she wished he would leave. She wished he'd never followed them. What had he heard? What would he do when he found out the boy from the Viridian was Tom Riddle? That Tom Riddle was walking around his castle, amongst his students.

She paused, swallowing. What would Dumbledore do if he knew Harry was freely consorting with him?

Hermione growled inside her head. This was frustrating, and confusing.

Harry was her friend. Fact. It had recently turned darker and darker until sometimes she couldn't recognize the Harry she used to know. But then, the Harry she saw in the library. Confident and charming and at ease...that was more Harry than she'd seen in three and a half years. There wasn't anything held back or forced about that boy. And _darkness _made him so. Tom made him so.

Hermione bit her lip.

Darkness was wrong. Fact. It was addicting and alluring and overpowering and made good people do horrible things. The worse events in their history were done by men who led themselves too far into the darkness to find their way out again. Grindlewald and Voldemort came to mind. There had to be a reason so many people were against the dark. It couldn't just all be rumours or politics. Fact. So she couldn't even justify it. No matter how she looked at it she couldn't be okay with Harry being connected to Tom Riddle like this. Harry knew who this boy became, he knew what he'd done to Ginny, Harry knew what he'd done to his own parents. He knew better than to dabble in darkness. He knew better than to go out in the woods at night with strange magical creatures he hardly knew, no matter how pretty or charming they may be. Harry knew all of this and still he did these things. Which meant he _chose _to do them, regardless of this information.

She couldn't forgive him for it. She couldn't condone it. She couldn't close her eyes to it or look away and pretend it wasn't there. Nor could she hold her tongue should he choose to do so in the future. What he was doing was wrong and there was no way around it. Taking in this in to consideration she should relay to Dumbledore somehow so the man could do whatever needed to be done to fix Harry.

But...this was one of the greatest men she knew, he was also the man who took down Grindlewald and knocked down any and all dark reformations to enter the Wizengamot. Two thousand spells, objects, books, and rituals had been banned by Dumbledore's efforts in the last ten years alone. Dumbledore was the epitome of anti-dark, anti-gray, against everything Harry had now become. He'd _seemed _fond of Harry in the past, would that fondness convince him to give Harry a second chance to mend his ways? He gave Sirius the benefit of a doubt when Harry told him he was innocent. He didn't have Harry arrested when he spoke parseltongue in second year. He didn't do anything else either. He watched. And it was the watching that made her nervous.

So, did she do the right thing and betray her friend as a result, feel guilty, lose her friend but live with a clear conscience? Or did she yield to the bonds of friendship and stand by her friend, even as he made mistakes and poor choices and did things she didn't agree with? In which world did she get the most sleep at night? And of course what was right or wrong could be subjective on occasion, what was wrong most of the time could be right once in a while couldn't it? There couldn't be anything that was right all the time and wrong the time could there? Or was there... Murder was wrong. Always. Even in defense of another or yourself, murder is still murder. Isn't it? And lying is still lying even if you do it to help someone. Her mind felt like it was twisting in on its self.

She couldn't break her oath directly, not if she didn't want to die. And she did not. Fact. She hated the dark. Fact. She disliked Malfoy. Fact. She disliked Tom Riddle. Fact. She liked Dumbledore. Respected. Trusted his opinion. All true. She was a light witch who followed the rules and respected authority. So..why was this so hard? Because she was a witch who followed her friends into the forbidden Forrest and rescued escaped criminals, brewed potions illegally, snuck into common rooms, smuggled dragons and went with her friends in the middle of the night to confront a magical obstacle course. Couldn't she be both of these people all at once? Did it have to be one or the other? And...didn't she do these things even though she knew it was wrong to do so? Didn't she do them because, even though they were wrong, they were the right things to do from her perspective at the time? But they were still wrong and if she'd heard someone else had done them she'd expect them to be given proper consequences for their actions, no matter their motivations. Playing with time was foolish. Running around the castle after dangerous thieves was foolish. Freeing a criminal was dangerous. All of these things could have put the other students into danger as a result of her recklessness, they hadn't, thankfully, for the most part, but the potential in each scenario was present. And what if someone less responsible, with darker motivations decided to follow her example? Wouldn't it be partly her fault for it?

Hermione wanted to help Harry, and she also wanted to do the right thing, she wanted the choice to be one and the same but she just didn't know how to make it so!

She fingered the chain around her neck indecisively. What would happened if he wouldn't give Harry a second chance? Dumbledore would never let him continue on like this if he figured it out. He wouldn't be persuaded.

But he could be distracted. And Harry could be warned. Or Dumbledore could be. If she went far enough.

"Professor?" She whispered from the side of her mouth, not wishing to draw attention from the two arguing men in the front.

"Miss Granger?"

"Hide me."

Snape raised a brow. "_Hide_ you?"

"Yes. Do it now. I can help just hide me. Quickly."

Snape studied her a moment, then leaned to Tabbris and whispered into her ear.

Tabbris waved her hand a bit and got Eridanous' attention. Several seemingly innocent hand gestures later and Eridanous gasped dramatically. Dumbledore and Draco stop and turned to looked at him.

Eridanous pointed out the door behind them, "What _is _that?"

Hermione wanted to face palm.

To her disbelief both men turned and peered out the door. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione nodded Tabbris. A sharp rap on her head and she a strange gooey feeling flowing down her indicated her invisibility. Time to make a choice. _Did choosing to do a wrong thing for the right reasons make it a wrong choice or a right one?_

Feeling wicked indeed, Hermione pulled out her time turner and twisted it.

Perhaps she'd be forgiven.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_I can hold my breath, I can bite my tongue_

_I can stay awake for days if that's what you want, be a number one_

_I can fake a smile, I can force a laugh_

_I can dance and play the part of that's what you ask_

_But I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down_

_I'm only human, I crash and I break down_

_...I'm only Human_

* * *

The world spun in a less frightening way, everything around moving backwards quickly in fuzzy blurs. Then, just as suddenly as it happened, it stopped. Hermione took a breath and tried to gain her bearings. She was pretty sure she could find her way back out of here, she only needed to avoid herself.

What a strange goal to have for ones self, she mused.

Hermione reached out a hand to open the door and instead stared at the empty space her hand should have been. She'd only intended for no one to see her disappear from the room, not for the invisibility to stick. Well, it was convenient at the moment, she could always worry about being invisible for eternity later on when she had time to worry about such things. Now she needed to figure out what in the world was going on.

From what she'd observed and heard, Dumbledore might have something to do with this pain Malfoy mentioned Tom having before Tom left the hall. Tom did this some unknown amount of time before the castle started shaking. Malfoy believed this had a correlation and although Hermione would never admit it aloud, Malfoy was clever enough and did seem to notice things even she overlooked. Hermione also knew that Harry had had pain in his chest himself, at least he had while he was in the library with her, because he kept placing a hand to his chest irritably. She didn't know how long it might have been occurring before he came into the library.

When Dumbledore was speaking to Malfoy he was far more agitated then his normally calm self and Hermione suspected he hadn't known another student would be affected by whatever it was he may have done. And Hermione suspected he was responsible because the man hadn't asked _what_ happened or _why_, only the location of Harry.

Hermione took the trek to the entrance hall easily enough, jogging along at a good pace as quietly as one might. The immense amount of dust helped though she had to skip around a bit to avoid the unidentified pieces of, hopefully, animal bones lying about. Hopefully non-recent animal bones, she amended, not wishing to encounter any magical beasts at the moment, or any other. Hermione had had quiet enough adventures with those for one life, and to emphasis this she got out of that area of the castle as quickly as she could.

She passed herself walking with a head in her book, one hand out writing a spell on a slip of parchment for Ginny, who looked eerily determined that morning. Hermione wondered which spell she'd needed, as she tended to do things on autopilot when she was reading, focused ion the words before her rather than the world around her. She gone back a bit further than she intended but this only gave her more time to puzzle this out. Hermione gave a mental shrug and continued on until she heard a familiar set of footsteps. Harry.

There he was, body straighter than the easy slouch he once copied from Ron. He looked a lot like that new boy, Tom. She cringed, swell. Just swell. With a huff she forced her morality to the corner promising it compensation, and followed her wayward friend.

It was a quiet walk. Everyone who passed them went around Harry in a wide berth, looking at him warily and scuttling past. She hadn't noticed they were doing that before. She wondered why. Just because he was quiet? Did his new, serious manner give them unease? Or was it because he was associating with Tabbris and her sister?

Harry glanced over his shoulder and around the hall before ducking up a flight of stairs. Hermione stopped where she was.

Or it could be because Harry's eyes were glowing red this morning.

Before Harry came to the end of his journey Hermione had deducted where they were going. The Chamber of Secrets. She couldn't think of any other reason to go to the haunted second-floor girls lavatory. Especially if one was a boy.

To her surprise Ginny was leaning on a wall outside the bathroom, waiting for Harry.

"It's him isn't it? I know it, I can bloody sense it. I'd know that magic anywhere Harry, _what could you possibly be thinking_?"

Ah, so she wasn't the only one to figure it out.

"Walk away Ginny." Said Harry, in a flat indifferent voice, moving to pass her by. Ginny grabbed his arm.

"Don't you ignore me Harry Potter! I know what you're doing, you're working with him aren't you? You stile the diary from me and you've brought him back somehow. I suspected it was you when it went missing you know. Who else could it be? Have you been playing with his toys down in the Chamber Harry? Killed any_ mudbloods_ recently to keep him going?" The red head asked snidely.

Harry's hand shot out like a snake to wrap around Ginny's throat and hold her against the wall. He must have got the habit from Tabbris, thought Hermione, rubbing a hand along her own throat.

"Be silent. This is none of your concern, walk away now."

Ginny made no move to free her neck from his grasp, only stared at him vacantly, the fire she had slowly dimming.

"What are you doing Harry? Teenage Dark Lords? And that woman from the Viridian? Do you know what she is? And you go off with her and those creatures of hers into the Forbidden Forrest to do Merlin knows what. Leaving all of your friends, going off on your own...your Aura is so dark now Harry. My friend Luna says only rebellious wrakspurts dare to come near you and the rest flee. I don't even know what that means, but even she knows there is something wrong. Oh what have you _done_ Harry?"

"Don't talk about them." He snapped. "You don't know them. I can be friends with whomever I choose and I happen to like them. Tom is brilliant. Tabbris is brilliant. Ambriel and Eridanous are funny and sneaky and yes they're dark. The lot of them, but they're my friends you won't talk ill of them in my presence."

"How can you possibly defend him? He used me. I did horrible things under his control, he nearly stole my life from me."

"He used you because you are weak willed and let him. I had the diary too, Ginny, and he didn't steal a bit of soul from me. I faced his older self when I was eleven, your age at the time, and I refused him. You grew up in a world of magic and you didn't think something was wrong?"

"That's not fair."

Harry scoffed. "Life isn't fair. Get bloody used to it."

"H-harry..."

"I don't have time for this." He let her go and looked away.

"Why." Asked Ginny, sliding down the wall. "Why _defend _him. Why defend _her_."

"Because I understand."

Ginny looked up. "Understand what?"

"_I understand_, Ginny!"

It was silent after his outburst. Hermione swallowed, she hadn't known any of this. Harry hadn't even hinted that he'd spoken to Ginny this morning.

"You couldn't possibly..." Started Ginny, uncertainly.

"Of course I could. Do you know what it's _like_? Getting beaten down and belittled by those who are meant to care for you? To be pushed around? To be a trophy that the world dusts off and shows off now and then and then puts back up high on an empty shelf the rest of the time? To be a _too_l? I defend them because I understand. And because I agree." Harry waved his hand in the air, "This, this Harry Potter you've become so infatuated with? It's all an act. One of my many masks. He does not _exist _Ginny. I use this golden boy persona to get what I want. I am not a light worshiping, dark fearing, forgiving sheep of Dumbledore. I never will be. I'm not your hero, I'm not a savior, I'm just a kid who got screwed over and alternately used and ignored because people saw what I could be for them and what I could do for them and in-between those moments they stuffed me in a hole and hid me away because they forgot that I have feelings and opinions and that that matters. I'm only human Ginny."

Harry walked into the bathroom and opened the Chamber.

"I'm through pretending to be something I'm not Ginny. It's not my job to save the world, or be a hero, or make good choices or forgive everyone. I'm _fourteen_. I'm allowed to make mistakes, I'm allowed to be upset, I'm allowed to do seemingly irrational things and rebel and have friends that aren't good for me in the eyes of the world. But, I don't have to answer to the world, or to you. Because I'm not a puppet, I'm a person and I don't live by a script."

He was gone.

Ginny stayed against the wall for a moment. "Aren't I your friend too Harry?" she whispered. Slowly she stood and made her way down the hall, looking very unsure of herself and somewhat regretful. Hermione narrowed her eyes. She waited half a minute before she followed behind Ginny.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_Be careful__ making wishes in the dark, can't be sure when they've hit their mark_

_In the dark, the dark_

_I got the scars from tomorrow and I wish that you could see_

_In the end everything collides_

* * *

"It doesn't matter Ginny."

"Of course it does Ron. How can you say that? He's your best friend."

"Exactly."

Ginny threw her hands in the air. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Hermione yawned and checked her watch. Ron had appeared out from under the invisibility cloak not long after Ginny left Harry and they'd been arguing for _ages. _Ginny wanted Ron to find out what Harry was doing and get him to stop. Ron wasn't interested. Thus the arguing. She was surprised no one had come to investigate the noise, as Ginny's voice had risen several times. Her fire seemed to have returned now she was standing in front of a less formidable opponent.

Hermione gave them five minutes to become more exciting or she was finding someone else to follow. She'd seen Dumbledore pass by earlier on the way to office. She didn't know the password but it wasn't like she didn't have time to figure it out.

"Look, I can be angry all I like. I don't _have _to ask for forgiveness, and he hasn't got to give it if I do ask. Harry is obviously choosing a different route than he was before and at the moment it doesn't include me. As such it isn't my place to go demand his whereabouts or his intentions or anything else. He's free to do as he pleases. If he want's to be a git, he can be a git."

"But Ron, those _people_ he's with!"

"What about them? Harry's not an idiot, can't you respect his intelligence and allow that perhaps he knows more about them than you do? I'm not asking him about it Ginny."

Ginny bit a lip. "Look...I know that something wrong is going on...I know that Harry is making a mistake."

"Let him."

"What?"

"Ginny...Harry isn't an idea or a legend or remotely perfect or anything. So what if he's The-Boy-Who-lived? So what if he's rich or survived the killing curse or is a Triwizard Tournament Champion at fourteen? He's just as human as you and I, and that means he's allowed to be unreasonable and make poor choices."

Hermione stood up straighter, her jaw dropping. When did Ron get so smart? Was he always like this with his family when the rest of them were gone? She quickly re-evaluated her previous interactions with him. There wasn't anything to suggest he wasn't somewhat mature, he just seemed so easily angered and jealous. Of course is he knew that about himself and didn't bother righting it that may mean it was just one of those character flaws you couldn't hide or contain very wall. She glare at him. If he was just acting like a moron all the time when Hermione was around to annoy her, and acting like this around everyone else she was going to have words with him.

And Harry! She bet Harry knew.

Boys.

_"He is making a horrible mistake!"_

"Maybe." Ron agreed, "But Harry is allowed to make his own choices and form his own opinions and do his own thing, on his own path, independent of your, or my, approval. Or anyone else's. Dumbledores, Mum's, anyone. We can give him advice. We can try to stop him if we feel the need. But we can't _keep _him from it. Taking his choice away takes away the bits of Harry that make him Harry. Why would you want a blank puppet with a painted smile instead of a human? Even with their flaws and pettiness a human has got to be far more desirable."

Ginny's eyes widened. "The bits of Harry that...Oh. Oh no." And she ran off.

Hermione sighed, more running. She moved to chase after Ginny and tripped. Loudly.

Ron turned. "Hermione?"

She held still, there was no way he could possibly know that.

"I can hear your shoes. They sound mugglish."

"That isn't a word Ronald!" Hermione clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Told you. Are we chasing Ginny?"

Hermione, throwing caution to the wind, grabbed Ron's wrist, much as Malfoy had done to her past self, and dragged him along behind her.

"Who spelled you?" Asked Ron, throwing the invisibility cloak over himself as they ran.

"Tabbris."

It was Ron's turn to trip. "What? You let _her _aim a wand at you?"

"...it's a long story."

"Clearly." He muttered.

They caught up with Ginny in time to see the gargoyle that protected Dumbledore's office jump back into place behind her.

"Oh I don't have time for this." Hermione moaned.

Ron pulled the invisibility cloak off and stuffed it into a pocket. Hermione watched, in disbelief, as he waved his wand and uttered an incantation she'd never even heard before, making the gargoyle move out of their way. He stepped onto the staircase and when he heard her footsteps stop he activated it with another spell she didn't know.

"Why on earth haven't you done that before? All the other times we stood out here like idiots trying to get in?"

"Guessing the password is fun."

When Hermione remained silent, Ron scowled and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? My older brothers are perfectionists, brilliant sneaks, dragon handlers and curse breakers. That's pretty good odds that I'm not stupid."

This was a hell of a lot of new things to discover about people all at once, she thought. Nothing in the world made sense anymore.

"I don't understand, if you can do these things, who do you act like you can't?"

"Because then people would _expect _it from me Hermione. If I do just enough to need a little help, enough that it's common for me to be seen asking someone for help now and then, then when I ask for help in subjects I'm not strong in...oh like _Charms_ or _Herbology_, no one thinks it's strange when you or Neville helps me with my work for that class. Haven't you noticed that all the times you haven't helped with my work I still somehow pass? And the end of year exams, you can't do those for me and I still pass them don't I?"

"You...you...and I...but you..."

Ron shrugged. "I told you. Pretty good odds that I'm not stupid."

He clapped his hands together and leaned against the railing while the staircase spun them upward. "So, do you mind telling me how you're here with me when I know for a fact that you're in the library at this exact moment?"

"I don't know what you're-"

He pulled the map from his pocket and waved it in front of where he guessed her face to be.

Damn.

"Does Harry know?" She asked.

He tilted his head. "Hermione, it's actually kind of insulting that you think no one suspects I might not be an idiot."

"That's not what I meant."

Ron shook his head. "Yes it is. You think I'm stupid, and that everyone else is too, because we don't sit around swallowing books and than spitting out the information every chance we get. There are different kinds of smart. And of course Harry knows, he isn't stupid at all. He's probably smarter than you. Some of the things he says sometimes..."

Hermione swallowed. "Yes," she said, "I'm beginning to see I may need to re-evaluate my opinions of things. I seem to have wrongly judged people and situations."

Ron smiled. "We all have to do that now and again Hermione. None of us is perfect. I'm glad you've finally figured that out. Welcome to being normal. How's it feel?"

The staircase stopped and they stepped off.

"Not as bad as I imagined." Admitted Hermione.

"So, about there being two two you?"

"Oh. Right. I have a time turner."

He stared.

"Don't ask. It's a long story."

Ron hardened his gaze. "I've snuck you into the headmaster's office to eavesdrop on him and my little sister. Harry is friends with Malfoy. You're playing with time. And you obviously know something that you aren't telling me."

She didn't say anything.

"_Start talking."_

"I can't! I swore I wouldn't, I'm sorry. Harry was serious about it."

He looked hurt. "Fine. I suppose I deserve that."

'Ron-"

"No. Let's just listen to the conversation so you get the information you want an then you can go and do whatever it is you and Harry are up to. I know when I'm not needed."

"That isn't it all!"

"Then what _is _it?"

"...I can't say."

"Exactly." He turned away.

Was this what is was like for Tabbris? Longing to tell someone something but utterly unable to?

"I think we've made a mistake sir." Said Ginny's voice, meekly.

"Really? You seemed so sure before. Remember, we're trying to help him Ms Weasely, this is for his own good. Especially if all that you've told me is true."

"I understand that but...I mean...well isn't he allowed to make his own choices sir? I don't feel right about this. Taking a part of him away sir?"

Hermione gasped. She knew which spell she'd given Ginny this morning. The book was a history on ancient spells and incantations used to enforce the law when magical societies were still a part of the non magical world. She'd gotten it from the restricted section a few days ago.

It was once believed that everyone was born with a soul bond and it was one's greatest wish to discover their bond mate during their life time. To sever the connection to this bond, preventing the person it was cast on from every being able to find their bond mate was one of the highest punishments given. There were many spells used to tear them apart. Some specifically that bond, others severed the desire to fulfill the bond so when they did find that person, they were unable to fulfill the bond.

The one she'd given Ginny was used when they didn't wish to go as far as severing the bond but still wish to change the person's behavior. It altered them, separating a piece of them that society found unsatisfactory and this making them a better person afterward.

_Mirabilem In Aeternum. _

"We're just severing the bits he doesn't need Ms Weasely. Don't you think Harry would be better off without darkness soaking in his skin and turning him from the light? Do you want to see him go down that hole?"

"No of course not but-"

"Then we're in accord. Your spell in addition to the one I've been using should do it. We should see the effects very quickly, I believe."

Removing darkness. Why was that affecting Tom? They could have initiated some sort of bond when Harry did whatever he did to make Tom's sixteen year old self able to walk around and be present in a time that wasn't his own but that didn't explain why Tom was affected. from this sort of spell.

Unless.

"Oh I have to _do_ something!" Hermione ran back down the staircase, noting that she was visible again.

"Where are we going?"

"You're going to use that new found brain of yours to figure out what I can't tell you. You're also going to use it now while we run. Think of a spell to send to people somewhere else. One that we can use within Hogwarts."

"Alright."

Hermione ran up to Gryffindor tower, up the stairs and into her room. She looked through her other book bag. There. Thank God for compulsive note taking of every book she read. Down the stairs and out of the common room, Ron following behind her, ignoring the puzzled looks they got.

The castle started to shake.

"Damn, Damn, damn. Ron I'm going to need you to be a distraction in a bit."

Ron, who was trying not to fall over as they ran, yelled at her over the noise. "I'm guessing this has something to do with why the castle is falling apart?"

"Yes."

She got under the cloak with Ron and followed her feet to the area the classroom she new her past self would find Tom and Harry was located in.

"Thought of the spell yet?"

"Relocation spell. Think of the persons involved, and the location the you need them to go. _Pariter Alibi. _Bill uses that in tombs to safely get team members back to a safe location."

"We're going to have a serious talk about you pretending to have inferior intelligence Ron Weasely."

"I'm helping! Why am I being punished?" He whined.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M**. For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_'Cause I have faith in you, that you're gonna make it through another night_

_Stop thinking about the easy way out, there's no need to go and blow the candle out_

_Because you're not done, you're far too young_

_If you can hear me now, I'm reaching out, to let you know that you're not alone_

_And if you can't tell, _

_I'm scared as Hell_

* * *

"Dumbledore's been casting some other separation spell, that's what started the pains, for Tom at least, and Ginny got the stronger incantation from me this morning right after her confrontation with Harry at the chamber entrance.."

Ron looked over. "_The Chamber of Secrets_?"

"...Ginny goes to Dumbledore's office, they argue, she give's in some time after I ran off, which is about the time Harry came to me in the library, she goes to the hall and he goes after, Dumbledore says the incantation, Tom leaves when the pain in his chest intensifies, Harry Leaves the library, the walls start shaking..."

"Yes I noticed the shaking."

"...So let's see, let's see..."

"Don't mind me," Said Ron, grinning, "I'll just dodge falling debris and try not to focus on my friend's future-self rambling next to me..."

Hermione didn't answer, busy speaking to herself trying to figure out where in the time-line they should be. To get this right she really needed to warn Tom somehow, but she couldn't without breaking her vow. This is ridiculous she knew when to warn him, she had the means, but she couldn't say a single word! Not if she didn't want to die. How the hell was she supposed to help Harry if his stupid oath kept her from saying anything? She couldn't even write it in a note or something. What she needed was more time.

_Time._

"I should be trying to get out of the library right now so we have a bit of time before I run into Malfoy and we find Harry and Tom. I can't keep Dumbledore from showing up because it's already happened..or will happen? I don't even know how to say that. I'll think on it later...I'll need to slow everyone down to give me enough time to get Harry and Tom out of there..."

"Tom? Who's Tom?" Hermione glanced over, remembering her companion.

"It's a-"

"Long story. Got it."

She nodded. "Okay do something to slow down anyone who follows after us please."

"When did I get elected master spellcaster?"

"When you stopped having the intellectual value of a turnip. And anyway I have to focus on things you don't know about yet, it's easier for me to have someone sharing the burden."

Ron sighed. "_Fine_."

The red head turned, running backward, and began waving his wand at the stairs behind them. His wand weaved in intricate patterns, then stopped and made sharp jabs at each staircase they passed, whether they took it or not as he didn't know which way whoever was going to follow them was coming from. Hermione hadn't said and he knew better than to interrupt her again.

_"Incomoda! Movere Non Nimis Cito! Incomoda!"_

"How on earth are managing to run backward like that?"

He looked at her, "What?" And fell over spectacularly.

Hermione grimaced and helped him up. "That was my fault."

"Well? Where now?" He glanced around. "I don't even know where I am right now."

She took a couple steps forward, hand against the wall to stay upright. "think it was over this-"

"Shh! Hear that?"

Hermione tilted her head. "Harry."

They walked forward, bones crunching beneath their feet, following his voice until it was loud enough for them to understand what he was saying. The world still shook down here but the roaring, grinding noise was muted, and the shaking was slower. The magic probably grew the further from Harry it got, like waves in the ocean. A ripple effect.

"...be angry with me. Hurt me. Curse me. Insult me. Tell me I'm an idiot and tell me you'll never speak to me again. Look me in the eye and then walk away without a word, keep your forgiveness and let me suffer. Only, only do not leave me in this abyss where I can not find you! One can not live without oxygen, without their soul. So bring them back to me."

Hermione paused outside the right door, pushing it open slowly, swallowing. She'd never heard Harry say anything so personal or emotional. Ever. He just wasn't that sort of person. Sure he smiled and he laughed and everything...but emotions were always so _forced _and _strained_ coming from him. It was almost like he didn't know how to feel...or he was afraid to. And yet...

And yet here he was. On his knees beside the boy who would grow up to be his enemy. His magic spiraling away from him in golden strings she could just make out in the air. In the distance she heard the rumbling grow louder and someone, somewhere gave a shriek. She hoped everyone was okay.

"Part of me wants to set you on fire and hold you while the flame consumes us both, to eat your heart so I know that only I will ever possess it entirely. I want your focus on me and only me, your thoughts and your words. I don't want you to have any other friends you care for or hate us much you care for and hate me. I want to be the only one who makes you feel these things and makes you angry enough you curse me just a bit too hard and then you mend me because you care for me and you hate it so you ignore me afterward and I never resent you for it because I hate you so much I want to lock you in a cage and keep you to myself because I couldn't bear to share that emotion with anything else. Only you."

Hermione felt Ron next to her and turned her head to see what he thought of it. Her friend was unusually serious, face betraying no thoughts. Eyes, suddenly more clever than before, watching the scene before him, taking in the details, piecing it together.

Ron took in a strange, crooked breath and looked at her. "That's Riddle, isn't it?" He whispered.

Hermione didn't bother answering.

He gave a nod. "Alright then. Let's do the relocation spell."

No arguments. No tantrums. No words of denial. No excuses. He just accepted it and was willing to do what needed to be done.

Hermione wondered when she'd become so self-absorbed with her own mental superiority that she stopped noticing such things in those around her. Was she really that _arrogant_? Was it noticeable? Was this why no one liked her? Why they mocked her and teased her and whispered behind her back? Because this boy she'd always felt smarter than, whom she'd always felt more mature than, who always lost his temper easier than her...he stood straight and strong as Harry's friend, even when he was upset with him. Hermione'd considered betraying him to Dumbledore...she'd been disrespectful to Tabbris whom she knew Harry was fond of...she'd thought ill things of them for stealing her Harry from her. These people who gave him a place to belong and understood him in ways she'd never bothered to try.

She wasn't nearly as clever as she thought she was.

And even though Ron lost his temper and showed his anger and displeasure more readily than her...that was his strength in moments like this. He was in tune with his emotions, he understood losing control of them. He could understand where Harry was coming from. Hermione, who had never considered doing anything that might make people dislike her more, didn't have any experience with standing up and going against the grain and doing as she wanted with hardly a damn given to the consequences.

Harry's courage now, regardless of her uneasiness about his choices, was amazing. As was Ron's. And in the midst of these people she'd thought she was better than...Hermione came to the painful conclusion that it was _herself_ who was lacking.

"You're my best-friend Tom. Didn't you know?"

She'd thought Harry mad for what he was doing...but mad was sometimes just a term used to describe a man who is obsessed with one idea and nothing else. For Harry it was certainly freedom...freedom from the bonds the world placed on him and...for whatever reason...Harry saw Tom as the sole representation of that freedom.

A tear slide down Hermione's cheek. She had wanted to destroy this and if things had turned differently she might have been up there with Dumbledore and Ginny, causing this. As it was it was her spell that made Harry hurt so.

She could hardly bear it.

Hermione might not believe in Dark Magic or in hurting other people to get what she wanted or any of the things she'd heard about Voldemort. She didn't know anything about the sort of life Harry lived before Hogwarts or what it was like to be someone like him, how it felt or what he must be going through. She didn't believe in blood purity or manipulation or dark curses... But she believed in the laws of friendship. She believed in loyalty.

She believed in Harry.

And if she backed down now, there wouldn't be a Harry anymore. It was frightening. How clearly she could see it now. This connection between them. Like their entire world revolved around the other...like they'd been missing pieces of themselves until they met and Harry couldn't allow that piece to go missing again. So he'd go along with it.

"Anger and Jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love." She said, softly.

Ron caught her eye, she wiped her face and nodded. He threw the invisibility cloak around them. Together they pointed their wands at the two boys before her.

"The Chamber." Instructed Hermione.

"Right."

Together they said. _"Pariter Alibi."_

Everything went very still, very quiet. A light grew around Harry and Tom, so bright Hermione had to cover her eyes.

She saw her past self and the others run up, Ron pulling her out of the way so they didn't get run into. Harry and Tom disappeared into the floor. Malfoy and past-Hermione walked into, followed by the others. She could see someone heading down the hall. That must be Dumbledore.

Thinking quickly Hermione unraveled a thin chain about her neck, pulled it off, twisted the small medallion hanging from it, and put it in Ron's hand.

"Warn Tom."

Hermione darted into the room around Dumbledore, ready to take the place of her past-self. Ready to deal with the consequences of her actions, and the ramifications of everything she'd learned. To face truths that were unpleasant and friends who were foes that you helped anyway and stood by because they were your friends.

_"What is that?"_

Dumbledore and Malfoy turned to look out the door, her past-self disappeared.

Hermione took a breath, stepped into place and took off the invisibility cloak. She caught Malfoy's eye when he turned back into the room. She willed him to understand her intentions, to trust her.

"Let's go to the seventh floor. No point hiding." She said aloud, enough for Dumbledore to hear.

He looked at her, pleased. "Very good Ms Granger, you want to help you friend don't you? Why don't you show me what's on the seventh floor." He walked out, expecting them to follow.

Mlafoy studied her a moment, a small smirk growing on his face. He nodded, gave a mock bow and walked out.

She followed after, hoping the clever Slytherin understood where she was going with this, hoping Ron managed to warn Tom, hoping Harry would be okay until she got to him, hoping Malfoy would figure out what to do.

Hoping that putting her faith in a Slytherin would pay off. It seemed to work for Harry.

And it was a mad, mad world.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M**. For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

**AN:** I know! I'm bad. I said I'd wait on VBB and post more for COS and CYHMN. Well...I did post 1/3 of an extra long chap for COS and I edited the chap for CYHMN...so that counts as doing something other than VBB right?

**-Pseudonymous **

* * *

_I open my eyes, I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light_

_I can't remember how, I can't remember why,_

_I'm lying here tonight_

_Everybody's screaming, I try to make a sound but _

_No one hears me_

* * *

Harry walked through the white nothingness. He could feel Tom, taste him, sense him. He was nearby. Be he couldn't see doors or windows in all this blinding light. He could only just make out the outline of the crease where wall met floor. It was all he had to confirm he wasn't standing still and only pretending to move. It was so still..so quiet. It un-nerved him and he took to yelling, humming, anything to make some noise. Eventually his voice faded away. It didn't matter.

There was no one to hear him anyway.

He could have been there five minutes, he could have been there five years or five centuries or an eternity with the castle broken and crumbled and buried beneath the Earth, it's inhabitants long buried with it. Bones turned to dust in a long ago world where things like that may have mattered to him. In fact, Harry had trouble remembering a world without this bright intensity. A world with contrasts and colour...

It seemed more like a dream than all of this.

After another immeasurable eternity the voices started. Some of them were speaking to him, the rest were further away and spoke to someone else. He couldn't understand any of the words. Harry knew though, from the texture of the voices, from their staccato and rhythm and octave...some of them were calm and soothing. The ones closest to him fell in this category but the ones further away? They were searing and burning and mocking, each word thence uttered like a physical blow, just one that was not directed to him.

Puzzled, because there were never any voices here before, Harry tried to follow the ones that were further away. After a moment he gained the sense of rising in elevation, ascending stairs maybe. It sort of felt like what he remember stairs to be. He turned a corner and his mind stopped in place. Colour. He remembered colour.

He knew colour once, didn't he? And faces.

People he didn't think he'd ever known but who cares, there were faces! _Others!_

But these weren't the sort of faces Harry would have chosen to occupy this blank space with him. The Others were shadowy, in faded colours with horrible faces and they stood around yet another Other. The Other wasn't like the mean Others. He was stood in the middle of them, dark eyes and dark hair and all edges and grays and blacks. Harry liked this Other immediately.

Then the mean Others were yelling at the Dark Other, their voices rising, hands reaching out and pushing the Dark Other. Flits of memories that weren't his leaked around them on a large screen that made the sky. Harry watched, fascinated. He watched a much younger Dark One pushed around as a child, locked outside, kicked and hit and shoved. He watched the Dark One find a mysterious bit of power and seize it like a beast relishing in the knowledge of firearms against man.

But the Others weren't finished with the Dark One.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. The image playing, stuck on repeat, showed a scratchy, painful scene that made his insides squirm and blood cool and before he';d though it through Harry flung himself at the Others. He smacked against them and pushed them away until he'd banished them from the blank space. Or at least his bit of it.

The Dark One didn't look at Harry, instead it reached out a hand to the wall in front of it and scratched at the pale white stone, flaking white dust from it.

_Tom._

Hadn't Harry known a Tom? He was certain he had.

_I will show you the darkness they fear so and use it to free you from your cage of synthetic light.._

"T-tom?" Harry asked, voice raspy and strange to him. Like a foreign instrument being played on his behalf. His mind was still blurry. but he was remembering it now. Why he was here in this place. What he had come to do.

He had to save Tom. His Dark One.

Tom did not look at Harry, his eyes were fixed on his hands and their task of creating white dust. "You should leave me here Harry."

That wasn't going to happen, it was ridiculous even to say it so Harry said nothing.

"He'll never stop coming after you if you bring me back again." Tried Tom. "He'll know who I am, if he doesn't already. He'll never let us alone. You'll always be looking over your shoulder and peering around corners, staring at nearby shadows with suspicion. I know, because it was the same for me."

So Dumbledore had something to do with this. Harry shouldn't be so surprised, and that traitorous part of himself shouldn't be so hurt. He knew the sort of man Dumbledore was.

Tom lowered his forehead to rest against the bright stone.

"This distrust...it never fades. It cannot be fixed. It grows and evolves like a horrible living nightmare with curved teeth and the one thing it wants to devour more than anything will be you."

Harry stepped forward, reaching a hand out to the other boy. He paused though, halfway and let his hand drop. He didn't know what to say. He didn't wish to lie to Tom and tell him everything would be okay. It wouldn't be and Tom would resent the insinuation anyway.

"Stop. Let me go Harry, I was meant to die. I probably should have been drowned at birth, and everyone who's ever tried to save me has regretted it. Oh they regretted it."

Tom glanced at Harry. "Leave me. Run away and never think of me again."

"I could bleed the crimson from my veins, scream the air from my lungs and leak the tears from eyes and still be no further from you than before. No matter how many steps I take, in whatever direction I might choose, I can not flee from you. I've tried, remember?"

"Yes and here we are."

Harry nodded, slowly, and took another step forward to stand beside Tom. He made no move to touch him this time.

"My point exactly. Here we are. Together. As it should always be."

Tom ran his fingers through his hair, uncommonly open with his emotion. Frustration, fear, anticipation, rage. All flickering across his face with incredible intensity. His blue eyes watching the corners of the room, the parts where The Others could be seen peeking in from time to time, horrid smiles on their faces. Waiting.

"I can not defeat these demons for you Harry. I have tried. I will have to destroy every piece of myself, because there is so little without a shadow's touch left within me."

"I've never been afraid of the dark."

Tom smiled at him fondly, darkly, brokenly. "But you should be."

He shrugged and pointed at himself. "Gryffindor, remember? I hardly ever have enough sense to be frightened."

The fact he was meant to be in Slytherin was something Harry didn't bother mentioning just then. He had a feeling it wouldn't help him any right now. It was much easier to get Tom to do what he wanted when he thought he was dealing with a Lion rather than a snake. The tactics one used and expected in a confrontation were very different, and Harry had the upper hand when no one knew they were using and expecting the wrong things. This, among other things in life, was an excellent usage of mankind's determination to fit things into the shapes they expect them to be, instead of what they are.

It wouldn't work long, if he kept it up. This was Tom Riddle after all. The king of this tactic.

"You cannot save everyone, Gryffindor, some people are going to destroy themselves no matter how much you try to help them."

"Yes. And sometimes the people you save won't thank you for it a second time. They'll gather wood and cheer while you burn."

Tom half-laughed. "Fond of burning are you?"

"The flames never seem to bother me."

"When did you get witty?"

"When did you start noticing?"

He looked away from Harry, huffing quietly. "Fair enough."

Harry sallowed. "There's a Hell inside of me where your demons can live." He said. "It's a bit oily and slick and there isn't really anything to grab onto to keep from falling and the landing always makes a bruise. It's dark in most places and there isn't really anywhere to go. It's all more of the same. Still, it has a lot of space, because it's always growing. I may as well begin filling it up with things I'd actually like to see when I visit."

Tom flashed an amused smile, turning and leaning back against the wall. "Your demons won't mind?"

"We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with our own. You and Draco don't get on that well yet...but I'm working on it."

"Am I one of your Demons Harry?" He asked, curiously.

"That is the implication."

They stood together, peaceably, for a time. Peace never lasts.

A sharp yank pulled at Harry, almost toppling him over. "What the?"

Tom stood up straight. "Harry?"

It yanked again, again, pushing him over, moving him across the room. Away from Tom. Harry turned, concern creeping in, and reached for Tom. Their hands met what felt like a shield of glass between them. Flickers of fear betrayed Tom's face.

"Harry!"

"Tom? What's happening?"

They both beat against the glass, Harry struggling against the pointed hands pulled him away.

A flash of light.

The first thing Harry realized was he was out of Tom's mind now. The second was Tom lying in front of him, still and quiet on the ground. A weak but steady beat was felt against Harry's searching fingers. Tom's heartbeat, the pulse that sustained Harry's universe.

He looked up. They were in the Chamber, but how did they get there?

"Finally."

Harry turned and jumped. How the Hell did Tabbris, Ambriel, Eridanous, Draco and...Hermione!? Was that Snape?

"How-"

"It's a long story." Said Hermione, with the air of someone who'd said that a lot recently.

"Yeah and we don't have time to tell it, we've got an uh irate wizard beating down the secret entrance trying to get into here." Murmured Ambriel from where she sat against the wall, one of Salazar's books open in her lap.

"Your concern for my wellbeing is heartwarming." Harry deadpanned.

She didn't even pretend to have an excuse. Violet eyes turned to the pages of the book and the rest of the world was dutifully ignored.

Snape snorted.

"Alright," said Harry, "How about _why_."

"It's a-"

"Long story." Harry finished, grinning at Hermione.

"Hang on. Is Dumbledore the irate wizard? And _what_ secret passage?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked away. "I may have led Dumbledore to the Room of Requirement after he followed us and saw you two disappeare into the floor. Then I may have asked for a room that would lead us to you. And then I may or may not have slammed the door shut before Dumbledore could get in."

He blinked. "Right. Well that makes as much sense as anything I suppose."

The Gryffindor stood up and squeaked when he immediately slumped over. Draco reached out and braced him, his fair brows furrowing in concern. "Harry?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and smiled up at the Slytherin sheepishly.

"I guess forcibly entering someone's mind and fighting their inner demons takes a lot out of you huh?"

A loud boom distracted the blond from whatever sarcasm was no doubt burning to leap from his tongue.

"We need to hurry." Hermione whispered, biting at her nails. Tabbris reached out and yanked her hand away, inspecting her nails and muttering insults about Hermione self presentation.

Harry tried to stand on his own. Draco tightened his hold on him and shook his head. "You're not going back in there. You don't have the strength."

"Then who will? Tom's not gonna be happy."

Draco rolled his silver eyes. "Tom's never happy unless someone else isn't. None of us are going to be happy about going into the evil bloke's head so that should please him."

Snape cleared his throat. Everyone looked over at him, having forgotten about him entirely.

"I'd very much like to know what is going on."


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_Frozen in time_

_I'm too young to lose my soul, I'm too young to feel this old_

_So long, I'm left behind, I feel like I'm losing my mind_

_Paralyzed_

_Living in a world so cold, wasting away_

_Living in a shell with no soul, Counting the days since you've gone away_

* * *

Ron blinked and looked around. How far back did she send him? Deciding that moving higher into the school, where things like windows and sunlight could be assessed, rather than standing in a dark, dusty pile of the bones of Merlin-knew-what was far more likely to yield answers. So up he went. Along the way he thought of the different ways he could approach Riddle and bring up the subject. False small talk? Hint at it? How does one convince a disguised Dark lord not to kill you when you reveal you know their identity without permission? His thoughts drifted to Harry's intimate confessions he and Hermione overheard. Heat flowed up his cheeks. He could bring that up as a way of convincing him but he was afraid Riddle would be...less than pleased to know anyone had heard it. And then of course if he didn't kill him, Harry certainly would once he found out Ron knew. And it wasn't like he could just throw Hermione under the bus for it. Harry actually wanted her around, apparently, and Ron was far too gentlemanly to do it anyway. His mother's etiquette training had twisted to level one-hundred-million after the troll incident first year. He'd rather be killed by Harry than killed by his mother. Harry would send a swift Avada at him. His mother would drag it out.

He shuddered.

Reaching ground level his concluded it was in the morning some time. This gave him some wriggle room to find Riddle and figure out how to convince him Ron was telling the truth and not just barmy as all hell. He hadn't expected to turn a corner and find the boy standing there having a conversation with Dumbledore of all people. Ron moved back a bit, not wanting to be seen, his eyes narrowed. What was going on? The guy was a future Dark lord, Ron couldn't help being suspicious.

"If it isn't the dear cousin of our most well known dark creature. I've yet to see you venture outside, do you share Tabbris' aversion to the light?"

_"The baby bat screamed out in fright, turn on the dark! I'm afraid of the light."_ Said Riddle in an eerie sing-song voice, mockingly.

"Now, now Mr Deorum, no need for hostility. The castle is large enough for all of us, dark and light, isn't it? There's no need for us to have a...confrontation."

"That depends more on your mouth than the actual floor plan here."

Ron covered his mouth to contain the startled laugh that nearly poured out of it and revealed him.

"Cheeky, very similar to your cousins."

Riddle nodded, slowly. "Everyone tells me we're very much alike."

"It's...striking." Said Dumbledore, gazing at the boy. "I do hope, however, if you will forgive the slight to your cousins, that the similarity ends there? I do not wish you to think I dislike your cousins or mean to insult them but I have known them since before you were born, Serephina especially, and I do not believe she could be the best role model for a child."

"I'm hardly a child anymore. And I am more than capable of thinking for myself."

Dumbledore twinkled. "Of course my boy, of course. I have heard you're hardly ever doing anything else. Either gazing into the distance, lost in thoughts, drawing up calculations on parchment or stuck in a book. Commendable."

"Imagination, fine motor skills and literacy. I'm just a prodigy."

"Articulate as well." Added the headmaster cheerily, seemingly undeterred by the boy's obvious suspicion of him. "Do you share your cousin's habit of being more than you appear?"

Riddle tilted his head. "Don't we all share that trait?"

"You think we're all hiding something?"

"I think we're all little moons. With a bright side and a dark side. Some of us show only one side and pretend the other isn't there. But it is."

"People often avoid the darker sides of themselves ,and the world, preferring the comfort of the light. Its security."

"Yes, well, people often believe they are safe in the light, thinking monsters only come out at night. We both know that isn't so, don't we _sir_?"

Ron had never heard the word 'sir' used as an insult before.

Riddle continued before Dumbledore could respond. "Just as there are two sides to every story, there are two sides to every person. One that we reveal to the world, and one that we keep hidden inside. The real question, is which side we're showing, which side we're pretending to show, which side we're hiding and which side we're pretending to hide? The difference between you and my cousins and I is that what we do in darkness and what we do in the light, match. I am what I am, it's there to see if you look for it or think to ask. You though, you switch out masks so quickly and so often I bet you've forgotten what you look like under them. My mask is transparent, it's a shield. Your masks are weapons, double edge and dipped in poison and you sir, I think you will be the very last to agree with me on this point. The very last. And that's okay, because I'm right and I don't need to be there when you realize it. I am content in knowing it's a certainty."

The mood was tense, thick with anticipation though of what Ron wasn't sure and he found himself wishing he were anywhere else. Dumbledore knew who Riddle was, Ron was sure of it. The loathing in the air was stifling. This was a conversation no one else was meant to hear. He seemed to be crashing a lot of those lately. Well what was a little disregarded privacy now and then anyway?

"You seem very sure of yourself."

"No. I'm just sure of what I think I know. Sure enough to bet on it. Are you?"

"Sure of what I know?"

"Sure enough to bet on it."

Dumbledore had an odd look on his face then. Calculating, the twinkle dimmed. "Betting is very dangerous."

"Only when you aren't willing to pay the price of the consequences should you lose."

"There are consequences when we win as well." Said the old wizard. "We pay a price to place our bets, regardless of the outcome."

"Well then," Riddle drawled, "best bribe the dealer directly. She's the only one who sees the cards. The rest of us see what we're told to see. That's how it works."

"Bribing dealers is just as dangerous and uncertain. For if they take a bribe from you they shall take bribes from others."

The dark haired boy flashed his teeth in a mimicry of a smile. "That's why it's called gambling headmaster."

"I have noticed you making fast friends with Mr Potter as well. You share that with your cousins too. They both sought him out upon arrival and have stuck close to him since."

The dark wizard shrugged. "I can honestly say Harry pursued my friendship with no initiation on my part."

"Really? Harry doesn't often leave his comfort zone in such a way. He tends to be a shy boy around people he does not know."

"He knows me well enough I think."

"Be careful, Mr Deorum, not all of the people who surround him are safe and I'd hate to join you in that category. The dark hold terrible things as often as it holds wondrous ones. It's not a playground."

"I couldn't agree with you more. The dark is no place for childish things."

And Dumbledore was gone, Riddle standing there alone.

"Riddle!" He called out.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

**AN:** It may be a small bit before I post another chap for _VBB_ as I am preparing to begin posting for _Rivalry,_ which I am excited to get into. Then again maybe I'll have another post in a couple days for _VBB_? Who knows? I certainly suck at predicting my own actions, maybe you'll do a better job of it.

**-Pseu**

* * *

_You dream of trading places, I've been changing faces_

_Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless_

_Be careful what you wish for_

_His fangs come out, get your brains blown out_

_I'm back for revenge, I lost a battle _

_That ain't happenin' again_

_I'm at your throat_

* * *

_The older boy stopped, turning to face Ron with violent violet eyes._

_"You don't know me, and I don't know you but I am here to help you. Not for your sake, but for a mutual friend. If you do not wish for this to be one of your last hours, I believe you should listen carefully to all I am about to say..."_

Standing in front of a sixteen year old Voldemort was intimidating all by its self. Standing in front of him in a currently deserted entrance hall after telling him you've come back from a future where Harry is bringing the castle down and killing everyone in it because the mini dark lord himself is dying from a spell cast by Albus Dumbledore? Ron cut that train off thought off. It was done. He'd given his message, now he could only hope Riddle was a observation first and curse later sort of teenager. He really didn't feel like dying today. He had spat it out quickly, trying to get it over quickly, so if he was really lucky Riddle would think he spoke a different language, nod at him and walk away.

"Did you have a suggestion to go along with all of that or just a warning and vague hope for the best?"

Ron blinked. Or not.

_He's asking me for a suggestion? Huh. I suppose I ought to think of something._

From what he understood, out of the bits he pieced together since Hermione couldn't tell him a damn thing, was that Harry had a teen age Tom Riddle walking around the castle with him, that Harry was doing questionable things, that Dumbledore was trying to separate Harry's darkness and for some reason that was hurting and killing Riddle, which in turn was hurting Harry. Harry, for reason's Ron did not understand, felt so attached to the evil git that he would let himself die along with him rather than live on separated from him again.

Now, Ron wasn't an idiot. He might act like it sometimes, but he wasn't.

Riddle didn't want to die, certainly. Ron didn't want to be crushed to death by the castle. No one wanted Harry to die. He was secure in the knowledge of these things if nothing else. Right now Harry was acting out of despair and an over emotional state, something the quiet boy generally avoided. As such his magic was spiraling out of his control in its search to rid its master of his pain. But Harry had a clear, cunning mind when it came to rescuing others. He could put off his own fears easily and suffer no regard for his own feelings if he needed to in order to help someone else. It was his 'saving people thing' as Hermione called it. Hang on.

"Harry has a saving people thing."

"I have noticed."

"No, no, no. Harry has a _saving people thing_."

Tom only looked at him like one does a slow child. Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Say it with me now...Harry has a-"

"-saving people...Oh. I see."

Ron grinned triumphantly. Riddle made a face.

"The price one must pay to avoid one's death." Said Ron.

The older boy sighed dramatically. "Tis _unbearable._ Truly."

The Gryffindor cocked his head to the side and studied the future dark lord before him.

Wary blue eyes, far darker than his own, narrowed. "What is it?"

"I like you."

"And does that surprise you?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Do you feel more comfortable helping me when I am like-able?"

Ron shifted uneasily. "Yes."

Riddle gave a sharp nod. "It's okay to like me you know. To find me amusing or talented or good company. But if you forget who I am, _do not_ blame me."

"I won't forget who you are. How could I?"

"It's easier to do than one thinks. For instance, your headmaster."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes. You respect him?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you think he is a good man?"

"Yes."

"But you yourself heard him speaking of using an illegal spell on a student, a student who happens to be your friend, that is going to kill him if I don't do something about it. Of course it could kill me as well and I'm sure you believe the world better off without me. But that is beside the point. Do you _still_ think him a good man that deserves your respect, even after that?"

"I..." Ron trailed off in the immediate chill sweeping up his body and clawing down his back in searing ice.

Riddle shot him a very un-nerving grin.

"That there is the crux you must accept if you are to be a friend of Harry. To light a candle is to cast a shadow. There is no other way. Do you pretend the shadow is not there? Do you light no candle, sitting in darkness? Do you persuade someone else to light the candle for you? Choices, choices."

Ron shook his head. "I made my choice, in the present moment. Er, sort of. You know what I mean. I made this choice I am going to stay with it. I can not promise what I shall choose in the future."

"But you should know. For the most part I mean, you should know where you want your bets to fall. You need to know yourself, well and truly, if you wish to dance along the rocky edge of choosing choices as one goes along. If you don't know yourself you'll only regret the choices you make, if you survive their consequences."

"How can you be so evil and be so understanding and objective at the same time? Shouldn't you chuckle maniacally and rant about your evil plans and call me names? Why are you trying to help me? If I had the choice and the ability I'd kill you now and rid myself of this situation in it's entirety. One less evil shadow in the world."

"Would you kindly ponder this question? What good would good be without the evil you call evil? If it didn't exist? Would you go on to name new evils? Let's pretend shadows are evil. Shadows are cast by things, by people. He raised his hand. Here is the shadow cast by my wand. But shadows also come from trees...mountains...living things. Do you want to strip the earth of all these thing just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light? You're stupid."

Ron felt anger and indignation swell up inside of him, tingling along his bones.

"I am not stupid."

"Then stop acting like it."

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, taking a deep breath and reminding himself whom he was talking to. "You're just trying to confuse me. Manipulate me. You want to lead me stray, trap me. I won't have it."

Tom gave an aborted eye-roll. "You had such _promise_ a moment ago. Stop putting Albus Dumbledore and his light preachers on a pedestal! Dumbledore wants to protect you 'innocent' people from sins and shadows and demons by locking you in cages where sins and shadows and demons can't get to them. There is no such cage...but imagine if there _were_? That, to me, is the definition of despicable. Of manipulation. At least I offer you a choice."

"Just because something seems glittery and sweet doesn't mean it isn't _ugly_ and _poisonous_ beneath. You're just so used to it you don't know it's killing you."

"That is my point you ignorant, hard-headed boy. Beauty is not a quality of things or sounds or people themselves...it exists merely in the mind which contemplates them, and each mind perceives a different sort of beauty. I can respect that you refuse to look at the world through my eyes, but I dislike it immensely when you attempt to force me to see it through yours because you deem yours the only one that's right. It doesn't even make any sense. The world I live in will never match yours, no matter how similar they appear. My experiences and thoughts and wishes and shadows...they're different from yours and these things have shaped my life experience in the world I live. How dare you try to tell me these things are incorrect. How dare you belittle them. When it reaches this point I have no choice but to walk away from you or to fight back against you. If you refuse to let me walk away, I will fight back. I will hit and I will hit hard and I will keep hitting until I _crush_ you. I will suffer no threats to my world. It's a crap world, but it's mine."

"You're playing the creepy vibe a little hard, might as well go for broke and put on a black top hat and pipe in some organ music."

Riddle raised a dark brow. "A muggle reference?"

"My father is obsessed."

"With muggles or their things?"

"Muggles. What they do and how they manage it and how they react to different obstacles. He thinks they're fascinating."

"Ah. Like a scientist might think an ant colony is very interesting to study."

"Yeah."

"Your father," said Riddle, "is far creepier than I."

Gryffindor light wizard and Slytherin dark wizard stood across an empty hall, neither speaking. Laughter flitted in now and again from the room behind the Slytherin. Occasional bits of conversation heard, though nothing clear enough to understand the entire sentence or exclamation. It was Ron who broke the silence.

"You don't have a lot of time to make necessary changes."

Riddle waited for the rest of it, saying nothing, only watching him with those terrifying, calculating eyes. Slytherin eyes. He shivered.

"Look. I don't like you. I don't. I don't trust you, myself, personally. At all. I know who you become, I know what you've done and I can imagine what you'll do if you survive this. I won't stop, if I ever am allowed back in to Harry's circle, I won't stop trying to convince him to part from you. Even though it might hurt him. In fact, if it comes down to it and you can not be saved I will do my best to convince Harry to continue on without you. He will be miserable, I know. He will hate me for it and will never be the same. But i am a selfish person and I see no need to pretend to be morally clean when we both know I am not. Griffindor or not I have the same flaws as anyone else. But, because I am selfish, I'd like to keep Harry with me in one piece, not even more broken. So I am going to do you a favour, and you're going to pay me back by never leaving him."

"Fun words. What do you have in mind?"

Ron reached around his neck, praying for forgiveness from what he was about to do because he knew, he just _knew_, he was going to live to regret it, and pulled the time-turner from his neck. He walked forward and held it out to the boy.

"You won't have seen one of these before."

Riddle's long fingers reached out and took it from him gently, looking it over.

"What is it for?"

"It's for those in need of more," he paused, _"time."_

No words, just a facial expression and graceful fingers twisting.

"Well, that's an evil smile..." Said Ron, watching the boy disappear. Half a moment later he reappeared, walking into the entrance hall from the stairs behind Ron.

He held up the necklace around his throat. "How many times can one use this?"

"As many as you like. The only rule is you can't change what has already happened, or appears to have happened. It's also best to avoid your past self."

"Obviously." Riddle rolled it in his hand, delighted. Then, to Ron's surprise, he grabbed the Griffindor by the arm, painfully, pulled him close, threw the long, fine chain around them both. "You're going to help me."

"...I'm already regretting this."


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

**AN:** Because sometimes things need to get even more complicated before they start to make sense.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_Skin against skin, blood and bone_

_You're all by yourself but you're not alone_

_You wanted in _

_Now you're here_

* * *

Our shadows ask us to look at all the things we really don't want to see, the truths we do not wish to face, the world just outside our rose coloured peripheral vision we pretend isn't there. People like to bleed over-descriptional praises of light and it's warmth. The way it shows the world around you so you can see what's there, how everything seems so much safer. But that doesn't really make sense. Not if you think about it. Because if the lights are on and you glance around and you see that the room is empty, why does a skittering of phantom fingers and claws and teeth crawl it's way up your spine and the base of your neck the moment the light is switched off? What is so frightening about the dark when you knew for certain, not a moment before, that the room was empty?

The only logical conclusion is that either every single person in the world had an irrational fear of nothing- or that the light did not show the world as it is...but rather it covered bits of it up. Maybe darkness was an obsidian mirror reflecting memories and unspoken truths and all the cool, jagged edges of ourselves we pretend we can't see during the day. Out of sight, out of mind. Right? And that was sort of the way the Wizarding world seemed to function as well. A living embodiment of it really. Cover up and stow away anything labeled dark and never speak of it unless it's to warn yet another away from it's clutches. Pretend it isn't there and if anyone let their darkness show, or even hinted at, they weren't trustworthy.

Every knew it. A dark wizard was a bad person, a liar and a betrayer. Someone who'd torture you for fun and routinely sacrificed kittens to unknown gods of evil for untoward purposes not to be known by those noble souls walking in the light.

Except.

Except Seamus Finnegan didn't feel quite so noble anymore. He didn't feel tolerant and educated and open minded and forgiving and accepting and right. Because some things weren't adding up with his previously, religiously held world view. And it made him nervous. It made him frightened. And angry and confused and uncertain. If things weren't straight black and white...if that fact wasn't a fact anymore. If it could sometimes be a lie...than what else could be a lie? What else did he think he know that he really didn't know at all?

And, if he was being fully honest with himself, which he felt an unyielding need to be as nothing else in his world seemed to be, this was not the first time the thought had crossed his mind. He'd beaten it down of course, told it it was one of those once in a lifetime exceptions and that was that. Only it wasn't that. Not at all. Gryffindors are the bravest. They are always true to their friends. Slytherins are cowardly. They can't be trusted as far as you can throw them. Darkness was to be avoided.

But the Gryffindors were giving one of their number the cold shoulder, some of them even hexing him in the halls or locking him out of the common room. Malfoy, a Slytherin, was giving Potter more support than any of Potter's house had even attempted. The Tabbris twins were dark creatures, but Potter, the _boy-who-lived_ was seen in their company on a daily basis and he didn't seem worse for ware. In fact he seemed...better. His eyes were clearer, sharper. He held his head higher.

So what did it all mean? Because he really hoped it didn't mean what he thought it meant because then Seamus would be utterly lost about his place in the world. Then again he was a halfblood who parent's slept on opposite sides of the house because they couldn't stand one another and his father doubted his parentage anyway. He was already confused before he ever came here...the wizarding world only gave him more things to be confused about. He wasn't even sure if ever believed in all of this good and evil nonsense until second year and that whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco.

As if in answer to the shattered world within his mind the great hall grew strangely silent and then it _shook_. Goblets overturned and rolled down the table, hitting the benches and clattering to the floor. Silverware and dishes and books and students following soon after. There was shrieking and crying and cursing as everyone attempted to stay in their seat or stand up without toppling over, dodging flying eating utensils. To his left he heard Patil calling out for her sister.

Seamus turned his head and watch Malfoy and that boy from the Viridian with the golden hair talking to one another. The Tabbris woman actually crawled on top of the table and across it to get to the blonde, whom she held on to and spoke to, though over the clashing and yelling he could hear what she said. The Slytherin turned and ran out of the hall, the other Viridan members and even professor Snape following after.

Narrowing his eyes, Seamus decided to follow Tabbris' example. He grasped the table and hauled himself up on it, pulling himself along on his stomach until he reached the other side. He was halfway to the Slytherin table when the windows shattered, sending tiny pieces of glass in every direction. He swore and threw himself under the Slytherin table, several others joining him.

"Finnegan?"

He turned and saw Nott and Zabini in front of him, crouching. Zabini had several scratches on his face and Nott's robes were torn.

"Is it true?" Nott called, trying to get heard over all the noise.

"What do you mean?"

"That-"

Something heavy fell with a solid thunk on top of the table, the legs groaning underneath the weight. All three of them jumped about a mile high.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

Seamus stuck his head out cautiously. And stared.

"Finnegan? _Finnegan."_

"I..bits of castle are falling off." He looked back at them.

Nott and Zabini's faces paled. "Bits of castle are falling off?" Zabini repeated, in such a way it was obvious he was hoping he misunderstood.

Seamus nodded. "The castle is falling apart."

"Why did he leave us?" A smaller Slytherin girl squealed, sliding under the table, two other first years hot on her heels.

"Who?"

"Dumbledore! he's left us."

Seamus and Nott struggled against each other to look out from underneath the table again. The head table was empty. Seamus flicked his eyes around the hall. He could make out McGonagal in the far corner but he didn't hold out any hope for seeing the little charms professor. There wasn't any sign of Dumbledore.

"I don't understand. He was just here. I saw him not five minutes ago after Malfoy-"

Zabini grabbed Seamus' collar and dragged him back under the table. "What _about_ Malfoy?"

"I saw him talking with those people from the Viridian. He said something and then they ran from the hall. I think he knows what is going on."

Nott scowled. "Bloody bastard. He could have taken us along with him. No, no just leave us here to fend for ourselves. We're doing fine thanks."

He was cut off by Zabini putting a hand firmly over his mouth.

"Forgive him. He's annoyingly sarcastic when he panics."

Seamus looked at the first years huddled to his right and then out into the aisles where the older years were scrambling and falling into one another, fighting to stand up or get out. Slamming into the walls and falling under debris.

"We best stay here for now."

The table gave another groan and then started to bow under the weight of whatever had fallen on it. It creaked ominously.

"Or not." said Zabini.

Seamus grabbed Nott, thrust him out of the table, and motioned for Zabini to follow him. They tried to stand, holding on to one another, house rivalries forgotten. Seamus' eyes narrowed on the entrance to the great hall when a familiar flash of red passed by.

"Follow me."

He darted through the crowd like a long distance runner going through an obstacle course with the hounds of hell after him. He really didn't know how he made it through without a broken ankle at the very least.

Reaching the doors he peered out. There. Ron Weasley and that foreign kid from the Viridan, Tabbris' cousin or something, were standing to the side.

"Hey Ron-"

They both faded and _disappeared._

"What the bloody Hell..."

He turned to Nott and Zabini, both of whom were staring off in the direction of the disappearing students with smooth, calculating eyes,

"Time turner." Said Zabini.

"What?"

"The ginger's got himself a time turner."

Seamus turned back and looked where Ron once stood. What in blazes was going on?

He must have said it out loud because Nott took a hold of both him and Zabini and started off down the hall when he saw Hermione and Ron run past heading toward the tower, even though Ron just disappeared with the Viridian boy.

"We're gonna find out."

The three of them chased after, ducking under falling banners and picture frames, the noise covering the sound of their foot steps.

Seamus couldn't shake the bad feeling creeping in the back of his mind.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary**: Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: M. **For a reason folks.

**Characters**: Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

* * *

_I never meant to make you feel this way, I never thought I could feel condemned_

_I feel exposed, I feel disgraced, I feel a whole new kind of hate_

_Someone please tell me what I am supposed to do_

_Oh! I can feel your fire now, it's why I'm breaking down_

_It's what I aim for, what I bleed for_

_I can change_

* * *

"Two of those."

"Yes I heard you, you goddamned megalomaniac."

Ron ignored the shiver clawing through him at the sound of Riddle's laugh.

"Gently now. Every one. Quickly."

The Gryffindor mockingly mouthed the older boy's words, irritated and frightened and unable to relieve himself of the feeling of being prey trapped in a small space with a predator.

"Done."

Riddle placed an armful of potions in the ever-expanding bag, then swing it over his shoulder carefully. "Me as well. Come along." He was shoved unceremoniously toward the door.

"You know, someone's therapist know's_ all _about you."

Riddle shot him a feral grin.

Ron decided an hour ago, in whichever time around they were in then, that he'd never complain about anything again as long as he lived. Riddle was a terrifying task-master with smooth, slick orders you found yourself following before you could process what he'd even said. Several time Ron stopped what he was doing and shook his head, trying to remember which circuit through they were and what he was doing. Riddle had a plan, and it was absolutely insane if anyone was asking Ron's opinion, however it was his own fault entirely. He would never make another joke around Tom Riddle again.

_"There has to be a way to make this work."_

_"Well," said Ron, "We do have all the time in the world."_

Merlin was he tempted to grab the time turner from Riddle and go back and stab himself before he could utter those words. As it was, he lost count how many times he had lived this day and how many of himself was currently running around the castle. Some of him were researching in the library, some of him were following people, some of him were stealing things like the potions from the infirmary or Snape's ingredients, some of him were making potions and some of him were casting spells.

All in an intricate dance choreographed by Riddle.

They ran through the halls to the room of requirement, ignoring the objects inside seemingly moving by themselves. In order to by pass the potentially harmful effects of seeing their past or future selves, event hough they knew they would be running around, Riddle turned them both invisible each time. Tripping over things that weren't there and hearing voices with no bodies attached was no longer something in the minds of mad men.

Or it might be. Ron was still undecided. This might all be a ridiculous dreamed he'd waken from and never remember. One could hope.

He and Riddle stacked the potions in the provide slots along the right hand wall, making certain each was in it's assigned place. Behind them some of the potions lifted themselves up and floated across the room to various cauldrons situated throughout the area. Riddle turned to him and once more Ron was struck by the sheer brilliance of the boy before him. A spell created in his fourth year to allow the caster to turn up to a dozen people invisible to all but others cast with the same spell. Genius. And potentially harmful if he taught it to his future Death Eaters. But that was a horrifying thought for another day.

"Runes and basic set up for the rituals next." Riddle ordered, because he never really requested anything even if it sounded that way.

Ron took a breath, cracked his neck and nodded. Six pepper-ups later and he was working at impossible speeds. He had so much energy he thought his bones make shake out of his body. Riddle found this amusing. Bastard.

"Good, and along the edges here. Yes and here. They mustn't be seen at first glance, everything needs to appear _utterly _ordinary."

Ron waved his hand at the boy over his shoulder, carving along the side of a table. He was already finished with some chairs, some lanterns, and small nick nacks. He was beyond asking questions at this point, his body going on autopilot.

He finished the last rune and a small bell chimed.

Riddle, who had of course finished before Ron, pulled him close, threw the chain about them and twisted. The sensation no longer seemed strange to him, in fact he wasn't sure how he'd handle living life normally after this. Do-overs were marvelous.

He followed Riddle through the halls and waited with him as first Dumbldore went up to his office followed sometime later by Ginny, who knew the password, and then Hermione and himself. He choked on his spit when Riddle complimented his spellwork. The piece of himself that was flattered and smug at the comment needed to die a vicious death.

They waited, having already gone over this overheated conversation when Riddle entered his mind and riffled through his memories until he found it. Ron hadn't felt so violated in all his life. Finally Hermione and Ron ran down the stairs and through the hall. A few minutes later both Ginny and Dumbledore were there, speaking to one another in low tones.

"It will be fine, do not worry. The greater good is precious, it is the sustainment and foundation of the future. We can not be weak when harsh choices must be made or others will make then for us. It is in dark times that we must look to our neighbors-"

"If he says '_we're all in this together' _I'm going to vomit." Whispered Riddle.

Ron slapped a hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

The moment they turned away from them Riddle grabbed hold of him and bounded up the stairs before the gargoyle leaped back into place. He was shoved into a chair, a pile of Dumbledore's books plopped in front of him along with another pepper up.

"Read."

Ron let out a low growl that might have been half whine and pulled the first book to him, flipping it open.

How many times had he relieved this day? How long had it been since he'd slept? Since he'd eaten? Ron couldn't remember. He didn't know when his grudging respect for Riddle had started or when his hands became numb to paper cuts and spilled poisons and nicks from ceremonial knives. Body moving and doing as commanded, memorizing information Riddle demanded at any time, picking things up, shrinking things down, stirring and pouring and cutting and gathering and_ looking._ His hand shook when he flipped another page. Irritation flickered across his face and he willed himself stronger. Harry nearly got himself killed each year for a world that couldn't make up its mind about him, the least Ron could do was bear a bit of the burden for him. He shouldn't have to go to everyone's rescue...it was time someone came to _his. _

It hit him hard when he realized he could have helped Harry before now, if he'd known what was going on, if he'd allowed himself to stay among Harry's social circle. It was his fault so much of Gryffindor turned on the smaller boy, it was his fault his once best friend had felt so isolated he'd gone to Tom Riddle of all people. It hurt even more when he realized that the future Dark Lord was better at taking care of Harry than he ever was.

A clatter had Ron and Riddle freezing, looking toward the door. Three students stood there.

"Dude why is the book levitating?"

"I have no idea."

"What did you call me?"

"What?"

"_What_ did you call me?'

"I didn't call you anything."

"Yes you did-"

The taller, darker skinned one smacked both of the shorter ones upside the back of their heads.

"_Idiots."_

Riddle looked at Ron. "Know them?"

"Unfortunately."

The was, apparently, a glimmering review of one's usefulness to Riddle's ears because he flicked his wand at the three of them.

"Oh you were invisible." Said Nott. Zabini smacked him again.

"Assault!"

"You," said Riddle, "are going to explain yourselves. Now."

The three of them straightened up, catching that predatory, low tone to Riddle's voice. The same sound Tabbris and Ambriel had to their voices, that reminded you they were dangerous.

"I'm Zabini, this is Nott and Finnegan. We saw you two," he nodded at Ron, "disappear when we came out of the great hall. Then we saw him and Granger running by not a minute later. We followed them, we thought they were going to the astronomy tower but they went down to a part of the castle I've never been to. We," he paused and licked his lips, "we heard what Potter said. We want to help, whatever is going on we want to help."

Riddle raised a brow. "What did Harry say?" Ron winced, he didn't think Harry meant for everyone and their cousin to over hear that.

"Er, we need to get to work..."

Riddle glanced at him back the boys then shrugged, "The more the merrier." Another flick of his wands and the other boys found themselves seated with books in their laps.

Ron looked around the room dominated by Slytherins, three to two, one being Voldemort, and the piles of books in front of him.

"So this is what Hell is like," he muttered, "Lovely to get a heads up."


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary: **Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the wizarding world and everyone it. Well, almost. With the help of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle, Harry shows the world it's time to treat him with a little respect.

**Rating: **M. For a reason folks.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy.

**Warnings: **Violence. Vengeance. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and Emotional Abuse. Pureblood Politics. Possessed Diaries. Teenage Dark Lords. Manipulation.

**Got Questions? **Put them in your review! If I can I'll answer them.

**AN:** I have chaps to post for _Rivalry_ and _CYHMN,_ one for_ VBB _will be up sometime after that.

* * *

_I like you more and more the less that you breath_

_I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone_

_My what have I done?_

_Oh no here comes the riot, does everything have to resort to violence?_

_Say goodbye kids_

* * *

"Alright I did this part but why do I need these ones here?"

Two days into this and you'd think Nott would have remembered some of this. He knew he had explained this already, the theory was very basic and weren't Sytherins meant to be clever anyway? Right up there with Ravenclaws? Nott could cast a spell to create invisible bits of hardened air so he could reach the books on the top shelves but he couldn't remember watered down Enchantment theory? Merlin he missed the days he was the stupid one and this was Hermione's job.

Ron growled in irritation. "This one is the base of the spell, so this is the rune that declares the spell's intentions. These surrounding it are to narrow it down and shape and cage it to keep it within the realm of what you want. For instance, just putting a rune for fire and having at it could result in a single flame like that of a candle or it could result _in a bloody Forrest fire._ Now stop asking stupid questions and do as I say. If I have to explain the same damn thing to you again I'm removing you from enchanting and putting you back on research duty."

Nott pouted. "How else am I supposed to know what I'm doing? We can't all be secret geniuses that only come out of hiding when its a dire need. I also do not appreciate your wit sir. Gee I'm so sorry I don't know what every rune means and how it's used in Enchanting even though that's not a course at this bloody school. Of course I should know-"

Ron smacked the back of his head.

"Oi! Only Zabini gets to do that."

"Ah, so this is how it works. I'll have to find my own form of physical reprimand for you. Like the swing of a blunt object perhaps?"

Nott sniffed. "I don't like your tone."

Ron shrugged and walked to the next desk to see how far along Riddle was.

"I am going to need a forgetfulness potion brushed along the side of this here. Then I think we might be ready."

"Alright I'll just-"

"Oh let me get it!" Nott scrambled away, not the least ashamed to be blatantly eavesdropping.

Riddle smirked. "A stalker…that'll liven things up"

"Please don't say that. I'm pretending this is all a horrible, seemingly never ending dream."

"You have odd dreams. Now go." He gave him a sharp push.

Ron skidded three feet away. Merlin Riddle was strong for a skinny guy.

"Keep that up and I'll start thinking you don't want me around."

A very unmanly squeal sounded behind him. He turned and saw Zabini dragging Seamus to a new set of books. The Irish boy grabbed everything in sight to try to stop his progress, to no avail. "No! You'll never take me alive!"

"Get a grip Finnegan. If we have to do this then so do you. It was your bright idea to follow them."

"No, that was yours. I only wanted to see what was going on. No one made you go skipping about through time like you were on holiday."

That's what was bugging him. They couldn't have left the great hall and _then_ followed them up here the first time because the castle was already shaking when they left the great hall and it wasn't shaking yet for him and Riddle. Sneaky bastards.

Riddle cleared his throat. "I'm sorry my memory must be failing. I don't recall any of you mentioning a holiday through time I believe it was called. Who would like to _volunteer_ to remedy the situation?"

Ron snickered. It was fabulous watching their faces pale. Riddle was damned scary, but the last however many day's he'd spent with the boy had numbed him to it. And anyway it was good fun watching him go all Dark Lord on someone else. Ron blinked and then wondered when he'd become so sadistic.

Nott chose that moment to return, arms laden with potions. Zabini and Seamus, as one, pointed at him. "Ask him."

Then they were out the door.

Nott froze, balancing precariously. "What the Hell did I just get framed for?"

Riddle smiled. Nott paled.

"Yeah, he's got that affect." Ron gave a smile of his own and patted Nott on the arm. "Good luck with that."

Nott's eyes widened. "Hang on, you can't abandon me too."

Ron scoffed. "Why not?"

"Your a Gryffindor. You're supposed to be brave and about fair-play and all that rubbish."

He shrugged. "You'd abandon me. I'm just treating you the way you've asked to be treated."

Riddle raised a brow. "Been listening to Tabbris?"

He coughed and looked away. "She might have interesting things to say once in a while. If you can get past the whole having teeth that can chew through your arm bit."

Nott yelped and nearly dropped a bottle. Quickly he set them on a table. "She chewed through someone's _arm?_"

Ron stalked forward. "Yes. And if you don't tell us why you neglected to mention having a time turner of your own I'm going to go get her and feed you to her in exchange for that marble chess set she's got." he paused and tilted his head, smiling cheerfully. "I've always wanted one of those."

"I could buy you one of those Weasely!"

He crossed his arms, feeling vindictive. "I don't like your tone." He started for the door.

"No wait! It's Zabini's. He and his mum have an unregistered time-tuner each. I think it's to help them have alibis when they're offing another one of his step-fathers."

Riddle gave a mocking bow. "You've been a great help. Run along and fetch your cowardly friends won't you?"

Ron grabbed one of the vials and brought it to Riddle's workstations. Riddle handed him a bowl to pour it into and gave him an amused look.

"And they say _I'm _evil and manipulative."

"Yes well I've been rethinking my life plan."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Quidditch player just pales in comparison to wicked dark wizard."

Riddle nodded wisely. "It's not nearly as impressive either."

"_And_ everyone knows the bad guys get all the ladies." Said Ron with a completely straight face.

"Priorities. Good to know you have them."

He hid a grin, choosing to hear that has a compliment, and started brushing the potion along the edge of the mirror.

"Almost ready."

"We did just establish that yes."

Riddle dropped the next side of the mirror's frame next to him, making the potion splash over Ron's shirt. He swore.

"You're an evil bastard Riddle."

Riddle blinked. "We did just establish that yes."

"...Bastard."


	28. Chapter 28

**SUMMARY:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the Wizarding World and everyone it.

**Rating:** M. For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy. OC. Dumbledore.

**Warnings:** Violence. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and emotional abuse. Pureblood politics. Teenage Dark Lords.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_Now that we're here so far away, all the struggle we thought was in vain and all the mistakes one life contained_

_They all finally start to go away and now we're here, it's so far away_

_And I feel like I can face the day and I can't forget that I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today_

_These are my words that I've never said before, I think I'm doing okay_

_And this is the smile I've never shown before_

* * *

Ron watched the Slytherin before him, warily. The moment they met Tom had seized on Ron as a helper, giving him things to do and expecting him to follow along. It never once occurred to the other boy that Ron was dumb. He seemed to see straight through the mask. He handed out difficult theories and asked for opinions at a quick pace, never once slowing down for him and never surprised when he managed to keep up. He saw him. They just met and he saw him better than people he'd known for years. Was this how Harry felt around the clever Slytherin? Like someone was seeing him for the first time? Being around Tom was like being in a small boat in the beginnings of a storm. The wind is kicking up and the waves are swelling, the rain is smacking down into the water and the skies are filled with flashes of light and low rumbles of thunder. You know you need to leave, you need find somewhere to wait out the storm. The rising height of the waves and the growing crash of the thunder leave you frozen. In fear, in awe. Hypnotized. That's what unnerved him the most, Ron thought. Tom never really hid his danger from you, he just made it so damn pretty to look at that you forgot a simple lesson learned as a child. Those who play with fire get burned.

"Take this, you know what you need to do. Make sure those idiots," Tom gestured over his shoulder at the two other Slytherins and one other Gryffindor standing behind them, "don't mess anything up." The boy studied him with violet eyes. "I trust you will take care of it."

Ron nodded, taking the shrunken mirror from the mini Dark lord. He averted his eyes, taking deep breaths. He was doing this for Harry. Don't think about the fact you're willing aiding the future Voldemort. He ordered himself. Just don't think about it. The dark haired boy glanced at a charmed pocket watch on the table before them.

"Alright. I have to go. Take care of this first then give explanations. Harry will be too exhausted from his magical turmoil to do any damage to you so you should be able to ignore him for a bit to get this done. Explain it plainly, so they understand but nothing more. Someone will need to go through my mind and pull me out." Long fingers collected the watch and stared into it's face unseeingly.

Feeling a surge of cruelty Ron sneered. "Can't fight your own demons Riddle?"

Violet eyes snapped to him. "I never could." He admitted softly.

Ron blinked. Why had he done that? Dammit why did he feel bad about it this guy already killed by the time this memory was made hadn't he? Annoyed Ron turned from Tom and walked across the room. "Finnegan, Zabini, Nott with me. We have something to do."

They followed along behind him without complaint. He knew it was only because he seemed to be teamed with Tom that they did so. They didn't even know who Tom really was, only that he was important to Harry and Harry was bringing down the castle if they didn't fix him. No. It was more than that. Even without knowing who this boy was destined to be they sensed he was someone whose commands were generally obeyed. They were intimidated. Why the hell was he thinking about Tom again? That's right because this whole mess was his fault. If he just stayed out of it and left Harry alone none of this would have happened. It wasn't normal for someone to be so attached to someone else.

There may have been a very tiny piece of jealousy involved on his part as well.

In the end he sucked it up and told himself to get a grip. He wasn't stupid. Ron played enough chess to know when he was facing a king a queen or pawn, he knew to see the moves and he knew who was on the board. Until know he was content to let others mess with it and leave it alone. When he had his older brothers to compare himself to it just had always seemed easier to be the sort of person no one expected anything from then to bother trying to compete because there was nothing he could do that they hadn't already done or wouldn't be compared to them. Now he realized he couldn't continue living his life this way. Not with the way things were going. Dumbledore and Voldemort, Tom Riddle, Tabbris. There were too many variables for him to certain what was going to happen and with Harry putting a red target on himself by joining with Tom and Malfoy and moving onto the board there was only one option left for Ron. He had to start playing the game. Spinning the time-turner for hopefully the last time that day or month or whatever, the world twisted away around them. They landed in the entrance hall just before breakfast. Taking off at a sprint they made their way through the castle to the second floor bathroom and hid in the stalls, Nott chattering away through most of it with occasional bouts of silence brought on by Zabini's hand to the back of his head. The boy would pout at Ron whenever this happened as if he expected him to say something about it. Ron wanted to hit him himself so he was looking for help in the wrong place.

It was boring to be honest. Sure they were saving themselves from dying beneath fallen stones in the castle, fixing Harry and rescuing the future Dark lord but sitting in a bathroom stall and waiting was just boring no matter how you looked at it or why you were doing it. Eventually Harry came by, after a short altercation with Ginny, and opened the tunnel leading to the chamber. After he slid down they quickly jumped after him, muttering silencing spells as they did. Landing at the bottom was tricky, rolling away from one another and keeping to the wall. Harry didn't look behind him though. He seemed focused on something. Ron followed him through the chamber, the three other students with him looking around in fascination. In seemed Nott had caught on quicker than the other two where they were and what was happening because he'd latched himself to Ron in his terror. The red head rolled his eyes. Honestly.

They hid in a narrow hallways leading off the route to the main chamber. As soon as Harry left he lead them into it. Ron had never gone this far before and he found himself staring about as much as his companions. The ceiling was tall, almost unfathomably, the room it's self wide and covered in detailed carvings and statues and faded murals. It really was a grand room. Pushing that thought away for now Ron squared his shoulders and got to work ordering the other three around. Rune shad to be carved, spells had to be cast and they had a limited amount of time to get it right. The parchment with instruction never left his hand. One day he would ask Riddle how he'd known exactly what to do. Nott never once stopped his sarcastic commentary during the lot of it. As much as Ron tried to get his dislike of the boy across it seemed the Slytherin was immune to it. The way he continued following him around or insisting on sitting beside him gave Ron the reluctant confirmation he was going to be stuck with him as a stalker for a while. Splendid.

Finally finished they hid themselves away again, unshrinking the mirror and holding it between them. The foundations began to shake. Not nearly as much as the upper levels would, they could walk around like this without falling over. In comparison it was nothing. Light flashed in the chamber momentarily blinding them. There int he center of the room lay Tom and Harry. Both unconscious. Mentally cursing Riddle Ron forced himself to stay still. He had to wait until the right time. Eventually a door appeared on the side of the chamber and a group poured out of it. Ron stared. It was Malfoy, Tabbris and her Sister which wasn't surprising, the tall golden haired boy and...Snape? Hermione tumbled out after the potions professor. The odd group started spells of their own. A grounding, Ron's brain supplied. They were going to use their magic to stabilize Harry and wake him up. No doubt they all wanted to know what the hell was going on. He held back a smile. That was going to be an interesting story to tell. Let's see, Harry brought back the sixteen year old version of the Dark lord, made an alliance with Malfoy, befriended whatever Tabbris and them were, Dumbledore and Ginny plotted against them cursing Riddle somehow oh and Harry refused to live without Riddle because the two of them had developed a toxic codependent relationship. Nothing major.

Harry woke up and Snape demanded to know what was going on. Ron figured this was as good a time as any to show they were there and get things done. He glanced at the time on the replica watch in his hand. Yes. Standing he crept from the shadows, his fellow conspirators walking with him. Ignoring gasps of surprise Ron and Nott carried the mirror over to the newly made door the others had come through. Lifting it up and facing it toward the wall they pushed it into the stone and spelled it there. Zabini set up the runes on the back and Seamus activated the wards. A pulse of magic and it was over. Ron grinned at Nott and then scowled at himself. That was going to help him get ride of the kid.

A throat cleared behind them. A room of curious and suspicious people with their wands out.

Swell.

"Hey guys." Said Ron, smiling.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For Merlin's sake Ron explain yourself, you're going to get yourself cursed."

"Alright. I may have spent several rewound days helping Riddle create a spell to suck our Dumbledore through a portal," he gestured at the mirror, "and place him in a time loop of his memories within the mirror, never knowing it's all fake. He'll simply forget at the end of the memories and start them over again. I wouldn't break it or try to use it or anything, we should probably hide it where it won't be found. The Dumbledore who sat down at the table for dinner will be compelled to return to the great hall and will never have followed you here, though of course the spell was still cast. Also, someone needs to get in Riddle's head and get him out. He's trapped by his own demons. Dumbledore was trying to get him to destroy himself. I don't think he realized how close he and Harry are. Riddle's pissed by the way. Seriously pissed." There, he said as simply as he could manage. Message delivered.

Everyone started talking at once. None of them quite getting it. Ron resisted the urge to face palm. Snape and Draco seemed to decide they got the gist of it and that was good enough because they let it go. Hermione wouldn't stop demanding him to explain in detail the different pieces of it, continuing to misunderstand him and giving out her opinions on half-formed ideas, glaring at him when he interrupted to correct her. His thoughts miles ahead of hers. He'd spent over a month reliving the same day working on these spells, how could she expect him to dumb it down for her to understand in a few minutes? He glanced over at the blond and raven haired boys sitting beside the mini Dark Lord. Future Dark Lords themselves, probably.

"...doesn't make sense to me. Now I know I read in..."

Ron growled to himself and gave Hermione his best fake smile and waited for her to either give it up or lose her voice.

Whichever came first.


	29. Chapter 29

**SUMMARY:** Fourteen year old Harry Potter is sick of the Wizarding World and everyone it.

**Rating:** M. For a reason folks.

**Characters:** Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Draco Malfoy. OC. Dumbledore.

**Warnings:** Violence. Dark Magic. Backstabbing. Mental and emotional abuse. Pureblood politics. Teenage Dark Lords.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

_I can move mountains, I can work a miracle, work a miracle_

_Oh, keep you like an oath, may nothing but death do us part_

_Divide me down to the smallest I can be, put your, put your venom in me_

_The blood, the blood, the blood of the lamb it's worth two lions_

_But here I am_

_And I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow's dreams_

_They're not quite what they seem_

* * *

Draco made Harry lay beside Tom. The smaller boy tried to act like he was okay, standing straight and pretending he wasn't leaning as heavily on Draco as he was. It was ridiculous. He didn't know what those Gryffindors did to make him think he couldn't show his exhaustion. If anything it was impressive. The boy shot him a glare but did eventually give up and stay there. Whether it was because he realized he needed to rest or if it was because he was closer to Tom this way Draco wasn't sure.

"...but how are you sending him somewhere else. Did you create space inside the mirror? How can you hope to contain him? Hes bound to notice isn't he? And how is he passing through the physical exterior of the mirror, through th glass? If he..."

Draco heaved a long suffering sigh and spun to look at jabbering mudblood. "_For the love of Slytherin_ Granger, it's spacial displacement. The glass of the mirror operates as a condition based portkey to transport an individual who fulfills the requirements to another location, in this case a removed piece of space where Dumbledore will reside, frozen, reliving his memories from birth to the moment he entered through the portal for as long as he is in there. The cycle of memories begins again immediately after it ends. Additionally even if he somehow figures it out he won't e able to leave unless he meets the conditions to leave and there may not be any. Dependent on the purpose of the space that is created he may be sustained eternally allowing him to be removed later on or he may eventually waste away from lack of food and water. Either way he's gone. His counter part, which is the original him, that began to follow us from the great hall will somehow be...persuaded to reenter the great hall rather than continue his original course. Thus he has both followed us and not followed us as long as we have memories of him following us and the knowledge that now he never did. It balances out the distortion of time, avoiding paradoxes and hopefully any unpleasant consequences. Will you _shut up_ now?"

"But_ how_ are you creating the space? I don't understand how it's possible. We shouldn't be able to create something from nothing it goes against..."

Harry cut her off, placing a hand on Draco's wand arm, perhaps sensing Draco's growing exasperation. She wasn't his friend, he wasn't required to be patient with her. "Remember the mirror in first year Hermione? How I got the stone out of the _Mirror of Erised_? It's something like that."

Draco shot him a glare. Harry gave him a grin and lay back on the floor.

"Yes but Dumbledore did that and he's the cleverest wizard alive." she trailed off for a minute, eyes unfocused, then set her gaze on Draco accusingly. He wondered if he ought to remind her he'd been in the same room with her the entire time and hadn't actually taken part in Tom's plan. "So we're just damning him to reliving his life?"

She thought he'd care? Draco scoffed. _Mudbloods._

The resident ginger gave Hermione a placating smile. "Tom would be offended. And actually he might die. I don't know if Riddle is preserving him or not." Said Weasley.

"This is barbaric!"

Draco rolled his eyes. Honestly.

A gloved hand spun Granger around, Tabbris smiling. "More so than leaving his students to fend for themselves in order to chase down and hinder the people trying to fix the situation? You do know he didn't come with us because he wanted to stop the castle shaking. He came with us to verify tim is who he thinks he is and figure out where he went wrong with whatever he did to them. There are students up there, some of them your friends, who could be injured right now. They're frightened and he _deserted_ them."

"I just don't know." Granger moaned, no doubt her Gryffindor mentality cracking under the pressure of real life situations that didn't have the words 'black' or 'white' pasted in block letters for her convenience.

"Excuse me, if I may, Albus will have both followed us and not followed us?" His godfather asked in the empty space, trying to get his words in before Granger went off on another rant. "How are we avoiding a paradox?"

Tabbris released Granger's shoulder in favour of Snape. Granger winced subtly. "Because the lot of us obviously followed the original time-line we have the memories of him following us to the room Hadrianiel and Marvolo were in and them tricking him in the room of requirement. However, because we are trapping that Dumbledore and getting the original to follow a different path and have the knowledge of that happening, rather than destroy the time-line so none of that happened, it had both happened and not happened. We would have to choose one reality over the other, erasing knowledge of the other in order to cement it. Obviously we don't want to do_ that._" She waved a hand.

His godfather nodded slowly. "Schrödinger."

Draco didn't understand the reference but apparently Tabbris did because she smiled brilliantly, baring sharp teeth. "Precisely."

"And who is Marvolo? Or Tom?"

Draco had been wondering when he would get back to that. As one the occupants of the room pointed to where Tom lay beside Draco and Harry on the chamber floor. Still unconscious. He was going to have to see about getting him up soon.

"Isn't that your cousin?" Black eyes studied Tabbris.

"Yes." She agreed. "And also not quite."

"He both is and isn't, or that is and is not right, as in, you have claimed him as your cousin and he is known as your cousin but he is also known as someone else, that someone else being the original someone he is known as and thus the more accurate of the identities?"

"The latter."

Ambriel leaned toward her sister and stage whispered. "He's too clever. It isn't any fun if everyone understands."

"I'll try to be more confused." Suggested Snape, dryly.

Tabbris laughed. Everyone shuddered.

"Ron, what is it we need to do for Tom?" Harry started to rise to go to the taller boy, Draco shot out a hand and pulled him down. He didn't know what foolishness was going on in his little Gryffindor's head but he was having none of it. Harry was too weak magically to return to Tom's mind. Not to mention he was only stabilized a little while ago and Draco couldn't be certain that they could do it again if his magic slipped out of his control while within Tom's mind.

The red head looked startled to be addressed, a pleased smiled flashing across his face. "Honestly don't know. He only told me he needed to be retrieved from his mind. The actual mechanics of it...were not explained. I assumed one of you would know."

"I did it before. I don't know how I did it, but I did. I was in his mind-scape. Or mine...or ours..."

Granger started rubbing her temples. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"You get used to it after a while." Eridanous assured her, pausing. "...Or you start drinking."

Draco studied the Gryffindor who sat near his feet, gazing at Tom with distress written over his face. He really looked like shite. His face was flushed, sweat dampening his clothing, sticking it to his skin. Hair wet and clinging in messy curls. The boy glanced up and smiled wearily, returning his gaze to the unconscious Dark Lord. Draco thought, idly, that violent storms and beautiful smiles were equally dangerous. With a silent curse the Slytherin faced the room, entirely unwilling to give himself to time to analyze why he was doing this.

"I'll do it."

He could feel the moment those green eyes snapped to him.

The room stilled. "You'll what Malfoy?" Weasley asked when it looked like no one else would.

"I'll retrieve him. From his mind. I'll bring back Riddle."

He turned back around and knelt before Tom not waiting for them to find something to say against it. There was in that moment a sense of being in the midst of something having prodigious weight and volume but no form, unable to utilize his past experiences and accumulated information to guide him though. He didn't have a clue what he was doing really. Just shoving himself into the Dark Lord's mind and hoping he could figure out how to draw him out without getting himself ripped to shreds by the other wizard's mental defenses. He wasn't _Harry_, Tom's barriers had no reason to pause before attacking him. No doubt they would sense they were something of rivals even if they did hold grudging respect for one another. This was stupid. So stupid. He placed his finger tips on either side of Tom's forehead and closed his eyes.

His inner Slytherin was strangling it's self.

* * *

**AN:** Over 100,000 views? Holy Crap! It'd been so long since I worked on this story...I had no idea anyone was still interested in it. The support is amazing, I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. Thank you for reading.

Ever Yours,

**-pseu**


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